


Demon Song

by AntaresPromise



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Demons, Forbidden Love, Illustrations on chapter 18!, M/M, Romance, Slavery, kickass OC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-24 18:18:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 86,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10747200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntaresPromise/pseuds/AntaresPromise
Summary: Victor thought he saved a dark haired boy from the villagers trying to burn him while screaming, "demon child!"Unbeknownst to him, Yuuri didn't need saving.





	1. Calamity's Child

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Artwork Credit (posted with permission, because she is amazing!): [@trebolqueen](https://tmblr.co/mLrUjxd3m1GTrHbDwLA_OTg) / [Facebook](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2FTr%25C3%25A9bol_queen-1504320742967560%2F&t=MGY1NGE5MDc3M2EzMmY5MDc5ODgyODg1ZWNmY2M4YTQ0YWZmNTI5ZCxPbldUNnZTMA%3D%3D&b=t%3AAAVw-FY46-Cftz9Ako92WQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fantarespromise.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F173645707251%2Fantarespromise-the-boy-loved-by-demons-for-my&m=1) 

Fire didn't touch him. Rather it tickled, that's the way he would describe the sensation as the orange tongues of flame licked his entire body each time the villagers tried to burn him. Being covered in patches of soot afterwards and needing to find new clothes was another major annoyance. He remembered the last time he had to walk away from the ashes naked except the thick metal chain around his neck he always had.

He hated rocks though. Internally Yuri groaned as the little kids from the village, whose lives he just saved a few hours ago, threw pebbles at him. The rough twine ropes bounding his wrists resembling fat snakes bit into his wrists making his fingers numb.

His other name was 'calamity's child'. His presence brought deep frowns upon the leaders of each village he tried to reside in, even though he meant no harm. In fact, this particular village fared well for this long because of him. He was to blame for a number of things, ranging from drought, disease, or even murder. The simple folks needed an explanation for these things, and Yuri was the perfect scapegoat.

He was a boy loved by demons, they flocked to him since he was a child. He turned fifteen this year, at least he thought so anyways. He had no childhood memories other than dark creatures of various sizes following his every step. The goblin from the mountains routinely laid shiny rocks at his feet, while the gargoyle's screech sounded gentle as if greeting him. There was also a serpent that would not leave his side, he named her Nox. Her black scales shining like the night with specks of dark red interspersed between. He wondered where she was at this moment.

Yuri watched as the villagers piled hay at his feet without any expression on his face. He knew his demons would come. It was the same every time. The smaller demons would bite through the thick ropes with their teeth and claws setting him free. The larger demons would masquerade in and frighten the villagers away. If anything he was slightly amused this time, wondering which demons would come this time.

He was tied to a wooden pole in the center of the village square. People begun to gather to watch, with a mixture of fear, curiosity, and anticipation written on their faces. The hay was poking through his pants around his ankles. Yuri shifted uncomfortably.

"Demon child!" A woman screamed with her fist up in the air. Her face looked puffy, her eyes were too close together.

Yuri sighed as he realized she was the mother of the two brats that he tried to save earlier. Those two tried to kick an injured wolf cub in the forest. The mother wolf nearly tore them into pieces if Yuri hadn't showed up. He sent Nox, the black serpent, to save them. The mother wolf eventually picked up the white cub by its collar and disappeared into the mountains after Nox came hissing. Yuri did notice the wolf cub had matted blood on its chest and some singed fur. The pattern of the bleeding resembled a claw mark. Yuri was still puzzled when he played that image in his mind. He wondered exactly what attacked the cub. He had been guarding the perimeter of this village for the past two years. He kept the giant in the forest at bay from trampling houses and the crops, and the wolves away from the stupid children and the sheep.

The village elder hobbled the centre of the square while two men dragged a heavy burlap sack before Yuri. The sack had a shape resembling a body. The village elder was a thin faced man with the last few strands of white hair remaining that he would comb from time to time. He took his sweet time because he had a bad leg, the children found some more pieces of rocks to throw at Yuri. He thought the one that bounced off his temple probably would leave a bruise and sighed.

The elder used the end of his wooden staff to open the burlap sack slowly as if being dramatic and enjoying the attention. Suddenly the mob cowered and gasped. The children who were aiming at Yuri dropped their rocks as their jaws widened. One of the little brats he saved plunged his face straight into his mother's large bosom.

Yuri gulped as he saw the body inside the bag. _They thought I did this...I_ _hope they would get on with the burning without lynching me..._ the man in the bag's face was ashen white, with burnt patches of skin. Streaks of dried blood, now crusted and brown, ran down his cheeks. His jaw wide open as if frozen in time at his last moment in life. But Yuri inhaled sharply as he looked closer.

His eyes were missing.

To add fuel to the fire of the riled up villagers, the elder continued to reveal the body with the end of his staff as if this was one sick perverted game. The crowd stared in horror as they saw only pieces of the rough brown fabric of his clothes remained. His torso was also charred and black, but parts of his ribcage can be seen. A piece of broke rib laced with bloody muscle and white connective tissue swung a little with the prodding of the elder's cane. Most of his ribcage was missing...along with his heart.

"Burn him!" Someone from the back screamed, "he did this! Burn the demon child!"

Yuri heard the hurried footsteps of the villagers fetching the torch. He was familiar with its smell and crackling sound. Just as the villagers were about to set the hay at his feet on fire, Yuri heard hooves of a horse approaching from the distance.

At the same time he caught a glimpse of Nox and the leathery wings of a few flying bat-like demons following her twenty feet in the distance.

He wasn't sure if the figure approaching was a man or woman from afar because of the long silvery mane flying in the wind.

"Wait!" The voice was male.

The villagers gasped at the magnificent figure approaching them. He looked no older than eighteen. He pulled the reins of his pitch black horse coming to a halt. He swiftly unmounted and landed soundlessly. He wore a grey traveling cloak, underneath it a light set of brown leather armour. A large sword hung at his waist. Pinned to his cloak is a simple crest with a wolf on it, not that these simple folks here would recognize it anyway.

"My name is Victor Nikiforov of the King's Guard," he announced with his chest held high and his right hand on the hilt of his sword.

The elder's face suddenly changed into a fake toothy smile, he slowly sunk to one knee. From the corner of his rat like eyes he squinted at the other villagers hinting for them to do the same.

Subsequently shuffling of clothes could be heard as all of the villagers sunk onto one knee saluting the knight.

"Tell me why you are burning that boy," his blue-green eyes met Yuri's dark ones for the very first time.

"Well..." the elder chuckles nervously, "I don't want to trouble you with such...trivial matters of this humble place, but -" he pointed his staff in the direction of the open sack with the body.

"Did anyone see him do this?" Victor's gaze hardened as he surveyed the crowd.

Silence.

A wave of wind lifted his hair the same color of twilight.

 _He was...beautiful._ Yuri's heart sped up a little, because no one ever stood up for him before.

"I-" the brat who threw pebbles at him earlier begun to speak. Suddenly his mother, the woman with the puffy face covered his mouth.

"He attracts demons, they follow him everywhere ..." the elder continued not daring to look up.

"And that makes him the culprit?" Victor frowned and took a few steps forwards. The villagers cower on their knees making a path for him.

Silence.

Victor sighed and shook his head, "I am taking him away, the boy at least deserves a fair trial." His grey cloak flowed behind him, he appeared out of place amongst the peasants like a phoenix among the crows.

Nobody dared to question his authority.

Yuri wondered what someone like him was doing here. He was content living near this village. He moved here two years ago from another village that tried to burn him. That was when he had to walk around naked until he could find new clothes while the villagers were terrified because he was untouchable by fire.

"Well," the village elder chuckled nervously, "suit your self." He gestured with his chin signalling his men.

The man with the torch nodded and briskly sliced through the rope bounding Yuri to the pole.

Yuri fell to his knees and braced himself for the impact into the rough hay below. His hands were still tied, and his fingers still felt numb and cold. He watched Nox with the corner of his eyes, the black serpent seemed hesitant whether to charge forwards or to stay back. The crowd took a few steps as he fell forwards.

Victor suddenly unsheathed his long sword. At same time, Nox raised her head from the distance appearing alarmed.

Yuri gazed at the tall figure before him. He did not see a single sign of hatred on Victor's face. But he did notice a deep sadness etched into those blue-green eyes.

Victor nodded at him and the next thing he felt was the ropes bounding his wrists suddenly loosened after a whooshing sound and a flash of silver.

The mob took a few further steps back, "what, you think the King's Guard cannot keep someone like him in check?" Victor sheathed his sword and said flatly as he watched whispers ripple through the crowd.

Yuri rubbed his raw wrists, the skin were red and peeling from the burn from the thick ropes. His dark eyes met Victor's ocean coloured ones. Victor's eyes reminded Yuri of some of the stones the goblins gifted to him. He knew those stones would fetch a decent price if he was to take them to the market.

Victor had kind eyes.

"Have you ever ridden a horse?" His voice was kind too.

Yuri shook his head.

"You ride at the front then," Victor gestured towards the stirrups of his pitch black horse. He touched his horse's forehead affectionately.

"Thank you, young knight, then we bid our farewell," the rat like elder of the village secretly lets out a sigh of relief, as he scratched his bald head with the last few remaining strand of hair.

Yuri found himself on horseback with Victor's arms around him on either side while Victor held the reins. He felt the warmth radiating from Victor's body. He had never been this close to another human being before. His heart raced a little for some reason. This was the first time he saw Victor's face up close. He had to keep himself from staring at Victor for too long. As they rode away from the crowd, he saw Nox and the other demons retreat into the forest. Nox would find her way to him, she always did. There was not a day in Yuri's memory when Nox wasn't by his side.

"How did you know that I wasn't the culprit?" Yuri asked his 'savior'.

"Because I know exactly who did that," there was bitterness in Victor's voice. There was a finality to his tone.

 _Who...not what,_ Yuri thought. He knew from Victor's voice not to ask any more questions. "Well," Yuri begun to enjoy the warmth from being next to another human being, "thank you."

"I couldn't watch them burn someone innocent," Victor's voice was gentle too and his expression was soft. "Let me take you home."

They rode in silence along the forest path. The only sounds were the wind in the leaves and the sound of the hooves of Victor's horse. The sun was setting, painting the sky orange. The warm April breeze caressed Yuri's face, occasionally he felt a strand of silvery hair too. Yuri directed Victor deeper into the forest of newly budding leaves.

They ascended towards the top of a mountain as the night begun to fall. "Please stay till tomorrow," Yuri requested, "and let me show you something...as way of saying thank you."

The gentle knight nodded.

They unmounted and hiked along a steep rugged path where the thicket blocked the view of the sky. The thicket begun to retreat the further they were from the top revealing parts of a thin crescent of the moon. Yuri grinned when he saw Victor's expression change as they reached the top. The sadness in his blue-green eyes faded just a little.

Yuri showed Victor his favorite place in the world.

There was a lake on top of the mountain, its water was clear and turquoise. It was was so pristine that every round pebble at the bottom can be seen amidst the soft ripples from the breeze. Above them millions of stars shone in a milky band painted across the sky. Victor had never seen stars this beautiful in his life.

Yuri led him towards the edge of the cliff, they could see miles away in this clear and beautiful night. Lights from distant villages flickered, outshone by the stars above. Victor's horse appeared serene and right at home, he grazed on the grass with dewdrops on the blades reflecting the twilight.

"Come," Yuri found the rope with knots on it secured to the giant rock at the edge of the cliff over the ravine.

Victor could not see the where the rope led to. Yuri descended about ten feet below then he vanished from the view.

Victor followed him, he was curious where Yuri lived all this time. He met Yuri again on a platform made of rocks at the mouth of a cave.

"This is my home," Yuri gathered wood sticks and piled them. He turned around as he heard sound of tiny shuffling feet.

Victor had never seen a mountain goblin up close before. As far as he was taught, they were elusive, greedy, they collected shiny things. And they were responsible occasionally for scouts going missing. There were debates whether they ate human flesh. Reflexively Victor's right hand gripped the hilt of his sword.

This one appeared before Yuri's feet and handed a piece of brown stone to him. Interlaced within the cracks of the seemingly unremarkable stone were deep red rubies. "No, you keep that, you already gave me enough." Yuri smiled and sunk to one knee to meet the tiny creature with large pointed ears, leathery skin and tiny hands and feet at eye level.

The goblin made clicking noises of protest. He also handed to Yuri a pile of mushroom inside his rugged makeshift satchel.

"Thanks for the mushrooms," Yuri nodded, and walked a little deeper into the cave and flipped over a piece of rock, revealing giant pearly grubs underneath. He picked up a few and handed them to the goblin.

The tiny creature squealed with delight and Victor watched this scene with bewilderment as the goblin wolfed down the grubs with its tiny uneven teeth making crunching sounds. Victor had to look away then.

Yuri scratched his messy black hair falling over his forehead and let out an awkward laugh, "you have no idea how many rocks like that one I have, they come every night."

"That's...fascinating..." Victor was still at loss for words.

Yuri returned to the mouth of the cave and sparks flew as he smashed two pieces of rocks together. He blew into the tiny flickering flame and fanned it until it swallowed the nearest tiny branches making a crackling sound.

Suddenly Victor drew his sword, his eyes sharp as a warrior ready to charge.

Yuri laughed again, "she's a friend." He saw Nox emerge from the cave with a rabbit inside her mouth.

"I wonder how many more surprises you will have for me, Yuri," For the first time, Victor said his name.

Yuri suddenly turned around, hiding his blush. The heavy chains that he always had around his neck made several sounds. He couldn't remove the chains by himself, and he had already grown used to its weight. He swiftly skinned and gutted the rabbit and pierced the flesh with a few sharpened branches. Nox curled up next to him by the fire, her forked tongue flickering.

Victor could not stop gazing up at the stars.

They ate the mushrooms stew and the rabbit by the warmth of the fire. Yuri felt like he was in a dream. Nobody ever ate with him before. He felt as if there was delightful warmth growing in the pit of his stomach.

"Where do you come from, Yuri?" Victor asked.

Yuri put his wooden bowl down and gazed up at the stars, "that's something I would like to know." He shrugged, the chain around his neck clanked. "I woke up one day five years ago with no memories and Nox by my side. I think I was ten back then."

Victor wasn't sure what to say.

"I don't know who I am, and sometimes I wonder _what_ I am," Yuri puts his hand straight into the fire.

 

Victor's blue green eyes widened as he watched the orange tongues of flame engulf Yuri's hand. He pulled Yuri's wrist back reflexively worried it might burn. "What are you doing -"

Yuri smiled as he watched Victor's worried expression change into one of comprehension that the villagers could not have burnt him. Victor's hand felt so warm...and gentle...Yuri didn't want him to let go.

"You would have been alright even if I didn't come today," Victor slowly released Yuri's wrist.

Yuri nodded. "But no one ever stood up for me before," he reached forwards and squeezed Victor's hand without thinking. His deep brown eyes with tiny spots of red locked with Victor's ocean coloured eyes, "I am glad you came...Victor...thank you." Suddenly realizing their bare skin was touching, Yuri withdrew his hand and turned away.

Victor's lips trembled a little, he nodded and ruffled Yuri's hair until they are messy with his free hand, "you are welcome." He had never met someone so innocent, strange, mysterious, fascinating, and _damn_ beautiful for the past eighteen years of his life.

Yuri wondered what Victor's long silvery locks would feel like through his fingers.

* * *

The next two weeks were the best time of Yuri's life (or at least the part of his life that he had memories for). Victor did not feel like a stranger at all. In fact, Yuri felt as if they had known each other all their life.

"You should learn to defend yourself," Victor's hand rested on the hilt of his sword.

"I have my bow and arrows," Yuri replied while shrugging, "and of course I am armed with the name 'demon child' too."

"The bow neither helps at close range nor can last against multiple opponents. Yuri, arrows are helpful for maybe shooting a few rabbits the way you are using them," Victor argued, "this is why even the villagers kept on catching you."

"I don't like killing, or inflicting pain for that matter -" Yuri protested.

Exasperated, Victor grabbed his shoulders and shook him a little, "you do not live up to the name 'demon child' at all! You have to learn to protect yourself, Yuri, because when I am gone...I will...worry about you..."He ended softly. A hint of pain appeared on his face. He quickly tried to hide it.

"Fine, teach me then," Yuri couldn't argue with him, he knew exactly what Victor was getting at since the beginning. He knew his knight was dying to teach him his art. Yuri wanted to tease him a little by pretending not want to learn. Suddenly he felt a sharp twinge of pain. The past few weeks was the first time he had someone who...cared.

He knew since the beginning that this wasn't meant to be forever.

Victor's grin widened, "that's more like it, let's go!"

* * *

Victor was a strict teacher. Yuri remembered running until he felt his lungs were on fire.

Victor did not go easy on him.

Yuri was a fast learner. He picked up the stances and the basic patterns to strike with the sword with lightning speed.

When Victor said he was proud of Yuri, his heart almost leapt out of his chest.

For the first time in the fifteen years of his life, he decided to stand up for himself and fight.

* * *

Yuri knew inevitably this day would come, and he dreaded it since the day they met. Victor was leaving. Somehow to him, Victor looked different. The stiff air about him softened, and the loneliness Yuri saw in his eyes dissipated a little. Victor's shoulders, usually tense, relaxed a little.

Thick blankets of clouds hung low in the sky, Victor gripped the rein of his horse tightly until his knuckles turned white. His fingernails dug into his hands.

"Here," Yuri handed him a wrapped package. Inside were dried meat and berries more than enough for his journey back.

"Thanks, I will miss your cooking," Victor smiled sadly.

"You can have it again," Yuri held back the tears in his eyes, the twisting sensation deep in his stomach gnawed at him from the inside, "and thanks...for the sword lessons." Nox uncurled herself from Yuri's neck as if reading his mind that he wanted to be alone with Victor. She slid down his legs and disappeared into the grass.

"Don't you dare slack off when I am gone, because...I will come back to check on you," Victor squeezed Yuri's shoulder. "It's not easy for me to leave the King's side, but if I can't come back to you sooner, I will be here, on this day next year."

"Promise?" Yuri gazed up at him. He was a foot shorter than Victor at this time.

"You have my word," his hand on Yuri's shoulder tightened.

Yuri was determined to not let Victor see him cry. Victor taught him to be strong and stand up for himself for the first time in his life. He wasn't sure how long he was going to last. He wasn't sure what gave him the courage to do what he did next.

Yuri tiptoed closer to him, gripped onto the front of his leather armour, closed his eyes and pressed his lips against Victor's. The kiss was brief, yet it felt like one moment in time that Yuri wanted to relive over and over. He heard Victor inhale sharply and saw a hint of blush on his pale cheeks, "Victor...come back to me..."

"Yuri -" before Victor could finish. Yuri turned around and ran. Warm streams of tears were pouring out of his eyes.

That was how they said goodbye.

* * *

The next year, Victor did come back to him, but it took him one whole year. On the same day in April as the day they parted.

Yuri turned sixteen. Yuri's swordsmanship improved by, "leaps and bounds", as the way Victor put it. Yuri confessed to recruiting some of his demons to help him practice with the wooden sword.

Victor's hair was longer.

They spent two blissful weeks together.

* * *

The next year, Yuri asked Victor about sex.

Victor almost chocked on his stew.

It took him all of his self control to tell Yuri that he was not of age yet and he would not lay even a finger on him before that.

* * *

The next year, Yuri turned eighteen.

His fighting skills continued to grow, he could almost keep Victor at bay despite Victor was the one who taught him everything he knew. He could tell Victor was proud of him. He was also taller than when they first met. The height of his eyes were a mere two inches from Victor's beautiful blue-green ones.

On the first night since Victor's arrival, Yuri waited impatiently for the night to fall. He scrubbed every inch of his body in the cold clear lake earlier that day. Nox knew it's time to leave again as the millions of stars rose to their places on the deep-blue canvas of night. She went hunting for mice outside.

Yuri smothered the fire with his bare hands. They sat next to each other watching the shooting stars glide across the sky.

"Are you sure this is what you want," Victor turned to face him.

Yuri could stare into his blue-green eyes forever, "yes." Yuri could tell Victor's self control was crumbling, "you said after I am of age..." he unwrapped his forest green scarf revealing the thick chains he always had around his neck. He lifted his dark brown tunic with tattered edges and let it drop onto the ground. His body changed, he was lean yet more muscular than the scrawny boy whom Victor rescued from raging villagers when he was fifteen. He kept his eyes on Victor's face the entire time as he knew, resistance was futile.

"Fuck," Victor swore silently, "Yuri -" he tipped Yuri's chin forwards with two fingers, leaned down and kissed Yuri for the very first time.

Yuri shivered as Victor's silvery hair spilled over his shoulders.

"I know you wanted this too Victor, I could tell," Yuri kissed him back, hard, he felt the pressure of Victor's lip and teeth. He ran his fingers through those beautiful locks, the same colour as twilight. He never kissed anyone for this long before, he wasn't sure what to do, "it's alright," he whispered, "I am yours."

Victor couldn't keep his eyes off Yuri's changed body. After a pause that felt like eternity Victor sighed. He pulled back and gently smiled, "fine I can't say no to you, Yuri, relax and open your mouth."

Yuri's blush deepened. He closed his eyes again and the last thing he saw was Victor's long lashes before they brushed softly against his cheeks like the wings of a butterfly.

Victor gently slid his tongue inside Yuri's mouth.

Yuri inhaled sharply, sucking the air from Victor's lungs. His grip on Victor's back tightened for a single moment then loosened a little as he relinquished his self control and welcomed him in. Yuri never felt warmth like this in his life. He did not have childhood memories, other than being shunned while villagers screamed 'demon child', having rocks thrown at him, or burnt again and again even though he was untouchable by fire. He drifted from village to village because demons that deeply loved him followed his every footstep and he didn't have the heart to shoo them away. He was the one to blame for any disaster and misfortune befallen to the villages. He was accused of all kinds of things: murder, theft, or even rape. Nobody mentioned or cared that he had been protecting the villages all along. This was the first time he felt an entirely different emotion, an indescribable warmth. For the first time, he was seen not as calamity's child but as exactly who he was. Victor saw his bare naked soul.

"Here," Victor guided Yuri's hand towards his heart, "go on." His breaths sped up.

With trembling hands Yuri pulled the knot of Victor's grey traveling cloak, the cascade of fabric fell next to them onto the damp grass. He moved faster, lifting Victor's silver tunic, revealing his bare chest. His hand lingered for a moment on Victor's collarbone. Yuri then moved towards the buckle of Victor's belt as Victor's lips locked at the base of his neck leaving his mark.

Yuri hoped that mark would never fade.

Victor gently lowered him onto his back, his curtain of silvery hair brushed past Yuri's bare shoulders. Yuri reached up and ran his fingers through through his hair until it framed both of their faces, creating a small world where only two of them belonged.

Yuri's blushed as he felt Victor's hips pressed on top of him. He felt every line on his body. He felt his own body react mirroring Victor's.

"I will stop any time you want me to," Victor whispered one more time and softly kissed the nape of his neck.

"Please don't stop," Yuri shivered and arched his back as Victor's hands run along the bare skin against his torso. He felt Victor's touch moving down further past his waist. He could hear Victor's racing heart, "you promised."

"Yuri, I don't want to hurt you," Victor's kiss deepened.

Yuri cupped Victor's face with his hands and tucked a strand of his silver hair behind his ear. He can't remember desiring anything else so badly before. He wasn't sure where this bold side of him came from. He bit Victor's lip and felt him shiver with pleasure, "shut up Victor." He made himself clear enough.

Victor wanted to move slowly despite his body being on fire. Most of all, he did not want to hurt Yuri for his first time.

He prepared him slowly. When he first started, Yuri suddenly made a sound and clasped his mouth with embarrassment.

Victor gently removed his hand and whispered, "you don't have to be embarrassed," he stroked Yuri's cheek, "let me hear the sounds you make."

Yuri nodded.

Victor felt Yuri relax a little as he continued.

"Now I want you," Yuri's dark eyes bore into Victor's.

He was impatient.

Victor appeared hesitant at first, but he couldn't help it. Victor gave in.

Resistance was futile.

Victor planned to be slow and gentle, but Yuri suddenly grabbed his hips and thrusted him forwards until they are as close as two people can be. A drop of tear rolled down the corner of his eye. He welcomed the pain, bit into his lip, tasted the metallic blood, but he didn't stop. Because Yuri never wanted to forget this night. He wanted his body to remember. He wanted the feeling of Victor carved into his body and his soul.

Victor was surprised by his sudden boldness. The Yuri he knew for the past three years was shy, soft spoken, with the kindest heart in the world. The Yuri he knew was selfless, stupid, he protected the villagers who were merciless towards him all these years. But this was the side of Yuri he had never seen before: smouldering, confident, and wild. This side of Yuri drove him over the edge.

 

They lost track of time.

Finally Yuri curled up in Victor's arms, his face rested against Victor's bare chest, listening to his heart slow down, tangled in his long hair the colour of stars, "Promise me you'll meet me here, on this day every year, for as long as you live." a few soft silvery strands glided through his fingers.

"For as long as I live," Victor echoed.

* * *

* * *

Greetings,

Thank you for reading the first chapter, I had so much fun writing this story!

I kept on thinking of No. 6 when I wrote the first part of this chapter (Nezumi is one of my all time favourite characters...watch No. 6 if you haven't already).

I intentionally made Yuri innocent here, because his character will transform as the story progresses. This story is actually very dark.

You will (eventually) read this chapter from Victor's point of view.

Let me know what you think!

xoxo

Antares

P.S. I humbly request for you to point out grammar mistakes that I made, that will help me become a better writer, I don't have a beta reader yet.

* * *

Artwork Credit (posted with permission, because she is amazing!): [@trebolqueen](https://tmblr.co/mLrUjxd3m1GTrHbDwLA_OTg) / [Facebook](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2FTr%25C3%25A9bol_queen-1504320742967560%2F&t=MGY1NGE5MDc3M2EzMmY5MDc5ODgyODg1ZWNmY2M4YTQ0YWZmNTI5ZCxPbldUNnZTMA%3D%3D&b=t%3AAAVw-FY46-Cftz9Ako92WQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fantarespromise.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F173645707251%2Fantarespromise-the-boy-loved-by-demons-for-my&m=1) 


	2. Forbidden Hope

There was an indescribable loneliness since Victor left a week ago. After all, the King could not spare his most gifted guard for long. Yuri remembered the first time they said goodbye where he wasn't sure what gave him courage to stand on his tiptoes and kiss Victor on the lips. This time when they parted, Victor kissed him long and deep. He remembered the curve of Victor's lips under his own. His body remembered what it was like to be as close as two beings could be. He craved for him more than ever before. Victor asked him to come with him to the capital, but he knew it wasn't possible, because his demons would follow him wherever he went. He didn't want to create trouble. After all, they belong to two completely different worlds.

Yuri felt nauseous, and it had been worsening. His head throbbed as if someone hacked him with an axe repeatedly from behind. He stumbled towards the lake on top of the mountain, and gazed upon his own reflection from the crystalline water. The specks of red within his dark irises were becoming more and more prominent. They were beginning to coalesce. Nox, the serpent that would not leave his side, also appeared unsettled. Yuri knew the look each time she was about to shed her skin. She had grown to twice her original size compared to when they first met. Eight years ago, he woke up in the forest and found her curled up by his side. He had no memories of who he was other than his name.

More demons appeared than usual recently.

Instead of one goblin laying gems and diamonds-in-the-rough at his feet, an entire hoard came this time. They brought an entire feast from the mountains. Yuri kept the fresh herbs and the mushrooms and told for them kindly to take the grubs back to feed their young. The jewels they brought this time were much bigger and they casted colourful shadows on the floor of his cave from the slanted rays of the sun. He didn't need the gems, but the goblins insisted. He had an entire corner of his cave piled with them. Bat demons with red eyes hung upside down during the day at the mouth of his cave. Yuri didn't mind, because they kept the mosquitoes away. The giant that lived in the forest that Yuri kept from trampling the crops of the nearby village trotted towards the blue crystalline lake near the cave Yuri called home.

On the third day since his nausea begun he started to feel feverish. The splitting headache radiated down towards his spine and across his shoulder blades. Something drawn him to the lake again. He felt like every bone in his body was on fire.

Nox came back to him, her fresh scales shiny, her pink forked tongue flickered in the air. He lightly stroked her scales affectionately as she slithered up his legs and draped herself around his neck. Even more demons were gathering around him, he saw claws and wings at every turn. An orange fox with too many tails gingerly approached him bowed his head. On the patch of grass next to him there were a swarm of blue infamous butterflies that the villagers thought feasted on human flesh. Yuri knew they would only attack when the silly humans trampled on their flowers. One of them landed softly on his fingertip.

He gasped as he gazed at his irises from his reflection in the water. They were now completely dark red. _What is happening?_ He wondered. _Is this what dying feels like?_ He gripped onto his black tunic across the chest while panting from the pain. He missed Victor, and having his strong arms wrapped around him. He missed every line of Victor's body, and the softness of his silvery hair.

He had never experienced physical pain this excruciating in his life before. Nox edged him closer towards the water, he knew she wanted him to step into the lake. He didn't bother removing his clothes as he took a few steps forwards into the pristine turquoise water feeling every cold and round pebbles at his feet. The fire inside his body seemed a little tamer than before. Yuri sunk onto his knees until most of his body was enveloped by the cold.

Suddenly a large black crow landed before him, its onyx eyes sparkled too intelligently to be a simple bird.

Yuri gazed at it for a second then his vision blurred, his felt as if someone is stabbing his left eye with a knife. He felt like he saw the bird somewhere before.

"Yuri! I can't believe I found you!" Suddenly a dark haired boy around sixteen appeared in the place of the crow. He wore a black outfit with flowing edges like feathers trailing behind him. Across his forehead was a single thin braided leather band ending in a piece of raven feather and three midnight blue beads on the right side of his head.

"Who -", as Yuri begun to speak, his vision became blurry, he clasped one hand over his left eye. He felt like it is being ripped out of its socket. Suddenly a vision flashed before his eyes. Yuri was around nine, and running in the forest with a younger version of that boy before him. He remembered laughing at the younger boy when he got stuck in the halfway form, with dark feathers flying everywhere. That was when Phichit's was first learning to shapeshift, "Phichit...am I dying?"

"You remember!" Phichit's dark eyes lit up, "you are changing into your full form Yuri." Phichit took a few steps until his ankles were submerged into the water. He was flustered and too excited for words. "No, my prince," Phichit gently rested a hand on his shoulder.

Yuri froze at the word prince.

Reading his shock, Phichit squeezed his shoulder, "I know, when Minako bound your powers to keep you safe, she suppressed your memories."

"Phichit, what am I?" Yuri asked between pulses of his splitting headache.

"You are a demon," Phichit kneeled before him on one knee and lowered his head, "and you are our prince...our _last_ prince." Sadness filled his dark eyes as his gaze met the ground.

Fragments of Yuri's life finally begun to come together like threads of a spiderweb. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know what lies at the centre of it. He felt as if he was sinking deeper and deeper into quicksand without any warning. Yuri's heart raced, he heard blood pulsating through his ears. He was the boy loved by demons. He finally knew the reason they were drawn to him, the reason the goblin came bearing precious gems, the reason flesh eating butterflies made way for him. The reason his demons had always set him free each time a village accused him wrongly of crimes. He was a creature of the darkness just like them.

He thought of Victor, who probably knew all along that he wasn't human but accepted him for who he was. He missed him now more than ever. He imagined burying his face into Victor's chest, feeling his kiss on his forehead. He hugged himself tightly, his hands squeezed his sleeves on the opposite side pretending Victor was close again.

"You should probably remove your shirt to make room," Phichit did not specify any further what Yuri would be making room for.

Yuri frantically pulled his black tunic off and let it float on the water.

More memories flashed before his eyes chilling him to the core.

* * *

_Yuri was ten at the time. Thick grey clouds blanketed the sky as if smothering the world below. The crowd gathered around the centre of the square shoulder to shoulder. The mob hardly noticed his small body pushing and elbowing people aside through the crowd. He kept on running along the cobblestone streets despite Minako chasing after him after he slipped out of her grasp._

_"Yuri!" He heard Minako's worried voice a few feet behind him through the crowd._

_He truly was sorry for running away from her, but this could be the last time for him to see ever see his family. He clawed through the people frantically._

_He arrived at the scene of a public execution. He knew he had to see his parents one last time. He wanted to run towards the stage and fight the guards to set them free. He had no idea how. He saw the crimson clad mages from the Nikiforov clan gathering. Ordinary fire does nothing to demons, but their infamous touch can instantaneously turn lesser demons into the ashes. He bit his lip and watched the mages resume position, their regal robes the colour of blood flying behind them in the wind. The Nikiforov clan only answered to the king himself._

_Time seemed to slow down as one of the executioners nodded. He saw his mother and father's faces, defiant and unafraid. The pain from deep inside gnawed at him, eating him alive. His parents were bound from the neck arms and legs by unforgiving thick black chains. Yuri watched as a silver haired man in his mid thirties take off his crimson glove and touched the top of a torch with his hand and setting it on fire. Blue fire danced eerily along the other two mages lighting them in unison. The crowd quietened down a little in anticipation. Yuri could smell he burning from the torches._

_"I thereby deliver the death sentence in the name of the King for treason. From this day on, demons shall be killed without question." The silver haired mage's voice was cold like black ice. His eyes blue-green and merciless. The crowd cheered._

_Yuri saw two mages walk closer to his parents, he couldn't move or breathe. Suddenly he felt one arm wrapping around him his shoulder from behind and another tightly covering his eyes._

_"Yuri, don't look," Minako pulled him back. Yuri's tears ran down the edge of her hand. "Your parents and don't want you to remember them like this."_

_Yuri couldn't recall anything else from that day other than Minako taking him deep into the forest as the sun was setting and she wrapped a thick black chain around his neck. He trusted her with his life even though she was a mage. To him, she was like family. She fell in love with a demon named Celestino and she left her world behind to join him. Despite the difference in lifespan, demons can live twice as long as humans and mages alike, she choose him._

_"Minako, what are you doing?" Yuri wiped his eyes._

_"The Nikiforov clan had wolfhounds that can track demons. I promised your mother that I would keep you safe." Minako's hand was warm on his shoulders. "I am going to suppress your powers, as long as this chain is around your neck they can't find you because you will be no different than a human."_

_"Am I going to see you again?" He suddenly wrapped his arms around her, and gripped her dark violet robes around her waist. She smelled like lavender._

_"Yes," she nodded firmly. "Eventually you will be too powerful for the chains. We will find you, my prince." She bowed and kissed his hand._

* * *

Suddenly one of the links of the chain around Yuri's neck gave way and it fell into the water splashing a small wave onto his face. The burning sensation on his shoulder blades intensified.

Then two gushes of warm blood trickled down his back. Yuri kneeled into the water.

Phichit watched in awe as dark leathery wings pierced through Yuri's back. The gathering demons squealed and chirped as if celebrating, the goblins begun a strange dance in a crooked circle. The giant roared in pleasure, sending a wave of rustling leaves.

Yuri panted, finally the pain was all gone. He felt the power trapped inside his body finally being set free. His vision was sharper than ever before, his sense of smell changed. He could smell everything, from the fresh soil after the rain to the wildflowers in the forest. He felt warmth beneath his hands and realized the water surrounding them were boiling and the rocks underneath at the bottom of the lake glowed orange briefly. His powers turned rocks into to lava, then they cooled down immediately leaving bubbling steam rising around him like the ethereal mist of a summer dawn.

He finally understood the reason he was untouchable by fire.

He _was_ fire.

Yuri let out a deep sigh and gazed upon his own reflection amidst the ripples. His irises were now dark red, his canines sharper, his ears pointed. His hair was messy and plastered to his head from the sweat. He felt dizzy as his powers surged through his veins. With one hand Yuri slicked his hair back. He didn't look like the shy, innocent eighteen year old human anymore. He looked unearthly and...powerful. His fingertips appeared sharper, resembling claws. He wondered what Victor's facial expression would be seeing him like this, whether Victor would be mesmerized or repulsed. He wondered what it would be like to give all of himself to Victor in this form. But Yuri's heart sunk, because the scene of his parents' public execution by the crimson clad mages from the Nikiforov clan flashed before his eyes. The physical pain he just experienced paled in comparison to the stabbing pain that started inside his chest.

He realized he fell in love with the one person in the world he should not have fallen in love with.

"Minako asked me to give you this," Phichit handed him a silver ring with a single emerald mounted on it. The ring appeared simple at first glance, but along its side was writing carved in their ancient language.

His father's ring. He didn't want to know how the ring was retrieved, he didn't want to imagine someone rummaging through the ashes of the demon king.

"This will help you turn back into your demi form before you learn to control your powers and keep the Nikiforov's wolfhounds away," his childhood friend finished.

"Phichit," Yuri slid the ring on the middle finger of his right hand, "thank you." His wings disappeared leaving a raw feeling in his shoulder blades, his hands no longer resembled claws, his ears no longer pointed, but his eyes remained deep red. The shy, naive boy with wide dark eyes 'saved' by Victor three years ago vanished. Instead an eighteen year old demon prince with kind dark red eyes appeared in his place.

* * *

They rode on horseback and left the place Yuri had called home for the past two years for good. Yuri remembered the first time he rode a horse. He sat in front of Victor, who had his arm around Yuri while holding the reins. Yuri craved for his warmth now more than ever. Victor was the first person who ever stood up for him, first person that shared a meal with him in those eight years of him without previous memories, the first person he had ever loved. But Victor had to be a Nikiforov...sadness etched deeply into Yuri's eyes. He tried his best to hide it.

Phichit told Yuri the fact he was drawn to the turquoise lake was no coincidence at all. It was a sacred site for the demons. Demons journeyed there for their coming of age ceremony prior to their powers manifesting because the water relieved the pain of the first transformation. But now, the entire demon kind was living in fear in the darkness, ever since the day Yuri's parents were consumed in blue flames. Many shapeshifters drifted into in the forests living lives no different from animals. The demons were killed and tortured without question. The unlucky ones had their powers bound by demon manacles and were sold as slaves and even to the brothel. Yuri gripped the reins of his horse tightly and shuddered while Phichit filled him in on the stories from the past eight years.

Their journey lasted three days. The terrain became more and more rugged, Yuri noticed the trees retreating from both sides of the path and the roads became increasingly narrower and more lucrative. The mountains around them had an orange-red hue to it.

They stopped during the final night to rest, Yuri experimentally started their bonfire with his fingertips. He was glad to have Phichit by his side. His memories still had not fully returned to him. Every night he could not stop thinking of Victor. He waited till Phichit's fast asleep and hugged himself tightly, his fingers dug into his shoulder blades. He pretended that Victor was holding him again. He pretended he was lying naked and tangled within his long hair the same colour as starlight. He bit his lips and suppressed the burning warmth in his eyes. He couldn't stop his body from reacting to his thoughts of that night when they were together for the first time. He used his own hand and pretended that Victor was the one touching him. He clasped his mouth with the other hand to stop any sound that might escape his lips. After the rapturing sensation passed, Yuri laid in the darkness breathing fast. He gazed through the foliage towards the millions of the stars above and thought of the first night they met. He loved the expression Victor made in awe when could not take his eyes off the stars. Burning tears rolled down the corner of his eyes, he didn't bother wiping them.

The next day Phichit grinned as they begun to descend into a seemingly desolate valley, "Yuri, everyone's going to be so excited to see you."

Yuri gazed back at him, puzzled, there was a ravine before them too deep to see the edge. A few small rocks set loose by the hooves of his horse fell into nothingness from the narrow path.

"Your sister is a genius," Phichit's eyes glistened with admiration and pride, "you'll see, we are coming close. Wait for me!" Phichit unmounted, and with a snapping sound he was gone. Instead a large raven flew overhead and suddenly vanished.

Yuri waited for what seemed like eternity and watched the space before his eyes ripple. Finally a slit begun to appear from the ground and shot towards the sky, like peeling back the edge of one world and into another. He gasped as the ravine disappeared and an entire village appeared before him. Slowly Yuri pulled the reins of his brown horse and stepped into the other side.

Yuri had never seen this many demons kneel before him in his life. Phichit was on one knee at the front with a wide smile on his face. Yuri's memories had not fully returned yet, but for the past eight years he was exiled from village to village. He was accused of crimes. He had rocks thrown at him. He wasn't sure how to react.

Slowly a figure walked towards him, a pipe in her hand. "Mari!" his heart raced, warmth rushed from the pit of his stomach towards his heart.

She wasn't conventionally beautiful, her hair frizzy with golden locks interlaced with brown, her eyes a little small. But there was a powerful air about her, like a warrior princess. She wore a loose orange tunic that ended midway along her thigh with slits on each side. Her pants were also in the same shade of faded orange. Through the slits of her tunic, Yuri saw leather straps and knives tucked underneath. She had gotten more piercing on her ears than Yuri remembered. She blew a puff of smoke after taking a deep inhale through her black pipe lazily, "Yuri, about time you returned. There's work for you to do."

"Mari," Yuri wanted to run up to her, but he held himself back remembering who he was. This distant and nonchalant greeting was just like his sister. He knew she does not like showing her emotions. He saw her eyes gloss over for a second filled with happiness despite her stoic facial expression. He scanned the crowd of both familiar and unfamiliar faces. He saw Nishigori, whose spiral like ram like horns were bigger than he remembered and his shoulders much broader. Other villagers dropped everything they were doing and joined the crowd on one knees greeting their prince. Suddenly he heard a someone singing a familiar song in the same ancient language as the writing on the ring on his finger. The gentle rise and fall of the melody touched him deeply, that song resonated with his soul. His gaze fell upon Yuko and he recognized her right away. She didn't realize Yuri was back because she was gazing lovingly into a crib made of wood and twine while singing _that_ song. Yuri's dark red eyes softened as he saw three babies fast asleep inside. They all have matching ram like horns curled on at their temple.

"What song is she singing?" Yuri was mesmerized by Yuko's voice.

"'Demon song', it's a lullaby in the language of our ancestors, the Greater Demons, all of our mothers once sang it to us. Now that most of our kin are dead and gone, thanks to the Nikiforov family, we are the last few remaining who still knew that song." His sister stood next to him. "the king executes anyone caught singing it."

Suddenly another familiar voice joined Mari's. Yuri's heart almost leapt out of his chest. "Yuri, my prince, would you bring us justice?" Minako spoke.

She looked exactly the same as the last time Yuri saw her. Her violet robes flowing with elaborate golden embroidery around her chest. The little boy inside Yuri was breaking down, he wanted to run up to her and pull her into a tight embrace but he kept his calm.

Silence.

"Look around you, Yuri, and tell me that this isn't worth fighting for?" Mari noticed him hesitating for a brief second.

Nobody kneeling before him could tell that he was shattering from the inside. Yuri gazed at Yuko and her three babies sleeping peacefully, and the entire secret demon village before him. They were his kin. They were the demons his parents gave their lives to protect, and now it was his turn. He knew the battle against the Nikiforov clan was inevitable. He knew, the only way he could protect Victor was to leave his side and hope that Victor would never find him again. His family would surely kill Victor. Yuri decide to pay the price of breaking himself instead.

"Yes," Yuri whispered. _Victor, you are my secret. I would give my own life to keep you safe. Victor. I love you._

_Goodbye._

* * *

Three years have gone by since they last parted, Victor waited for Yuri next to the blue lake on top of the mountain. Yuri never came back last year or the year before. Each year, Victor laid on the ground at the lip of Yuri's cave where they gave themselves to each other for the first time and pretended that they were close again. He stood at the top of the cliff watching the stars rise on his own. He walked to the clearing where he taught Yuri how to fight with the sword and taught him how to ride horses.

"Yuri, I promised that I would meet you back at this place, on the same day every year for as long as I live." Victor said to the wind, "I am here." _Yuri, where are you?_ His entire body ached.

Only silence answered, and the sound of fresh new leaves rustling in the wind.

 _Yuri, just give me a sign that you haven't forgotten..._ Victor begun to cry. He sat next to the turquoise lake the same shade as his eyes, his shoulders quivered. Hot tears streamed down his face onto the palm on his hands. He didn't bother wiping them or try to hide his face. The best swordsman in this entire kingdom - given the nickname the King's Right Hand- cried like a child.

* * *

* * *

 

Greetings,

Thank you for reading and your kind comments, they made my day :)!

Here's a funny story for you. So I am in my 20s, recently got married and my husband is less of a nerd than I am. For the longest time I couldn't tell him that I wrote fanfiction...but because I wanted to write all the time (wrote my last story of 54,000 words on my phone) got tired of hiding it I finally told him along with the fact that I'd never tell him my user name. But guess what, the guy guessed part of it! He knew me too well. He went on google and found my stories...

I do want to write an original story some day, and fanfiction is my creative outlet and a way so I write something every day. He is supportive. I guess I married the right person, lol.

I am so grateful for Yuri on Ice because it inspired me to write again.

Thoughts? Constructive criticism? Let me know!

xoxo

Antares

 

 


	3. Unwanted Presents

There were two things Christopher Giacometti could do like no other. One was he could seduce anyone (with the exception of Victor), and the other was reading people. Victor never explicitly told Chris about Yuri. The courtesan with golden eyes and razor sharp wit guessed everything from simply watching him. Victor didn't think he was that transparent, to which Chris laughed and agreed with him. Chris said was he was just _damn good_ at making educated guesses.

Victor returned to the capital from his two weeks of rest granted by the King and one of the first places he went was to Chris' chamber inside the most decorated brothel within the capital. No ordinary person could afford to set foot there.

"Victor, I am sorry," Chris looked more like a noble than a courtesan, he wore a burgundy blouse with frills at the front. No ordinary person could afford a night with him either. He read from Victor's expression, Yuri didn't come again, for the third year in a row.

Victor knew for a long time that Chris wanted him. But he never gave in because to him Chris was the closest thing he had to a friend. Without any expression, Victor sat down on Chris's velvet dark red couch next to the elaborate wooden table with a plate full of pomegranates on top. "I paid for you this evening."

Chris wet his lips and slowly deliberately encircled him looking hopeful, "meaning I can have my ways with you?"

Victor sighed and crossed his arms in front his chest, "no Chris, I want to drink. I paid for you so I don't get in the way of your...business."

"I figured," Chris shrugged. The truth is Chris was rich, he had more gold than many nobles combined, "Victor Nikiforov, the King's Right Hand, the righteous and the perfect gentleman. Staying faithful to whatever his name is. How admirable." He slowly clapped as he walked towards the other end of his room lit by burgundy candles mounted on different levels. Chris pulled out a flask of wine from his cabinet.

Victor narrowed his eyes, slightly resentful at the fact Chris read him easily again, "his name is Yuri." Victor asked Chris many times if he wanted to stop working as a courtesan and to join him in the court of the king. Chris laughed and politely declined. He actually _enjoyed_ what he did. Chris found the kingdom's secrets more intriguing, and there are no better place to gather them than from his bedroom. He was more than a high class courtesan, he was also a broker for information. He knew things many would pay several times the amount that he charged for spending a night night with him. Chris dealt in more than gold, he dealt in secrets amongst other things. He possesses knowledge many would kill for.

"Fine, fine," Chris turned over two silver goblets and poured the deep red wine slowly, "Yuri." He sat next to Victor, not close enough to touch him but close enough that Victor felt his warmth. He crossed and uncrossed his legs. "How old are you Victor?"

"Twenty four," Victor sipped the wine.

"You know sooner or later the king will find you a wife right? There must be many noble families dying to get their hands on the Nikiforov name," Chris peered at him through his long golden lashes.

"I know. But I am hardly a Nikiforov," Victor reflexively gripped the hilt of his sword resting against the elaborate round table with the pomegranates. The Nikiforov clan was the most powerful of the mages who only answered to the king himself. They ran a school for only the most promising apprentices in the entire kingdom. Victor's father spearheaded the selection process accepting only the best of the best, "I mean, look at the hair." He suddenly remembered the time Yuri laid next to him naked while running his hands through his silver locks sending shivers down his spine. He winced a little in pain. His felt his deep wounds within ripped open and started to bleed again.

There was a custom in the Nikiforov clan that before the manifestation of their powers, children kept their hair long. In their clan shorter hair signified power. His father's silvery hair was the shortest of them all, almost down to his scalp.

Victor was the only child of the head of the Nikiforov family, except he never showed a hint of power.

"Since you paid me and you are not putting me to work, let me tell you a name of someone who might be able to give you some answers," Chris was still hopeful that Victor would finally give in to his charms and let him do what he did best. "His name is Yakov," Chris poured himself more wine, "he is the grumpy old apothecary who runs a shady little shop a few streets south of the Main Street next to the bakery. He specializes in treating wounds inflicted by magic. People with strange diseases that make most doctors scratch their head also travel to seek his help."

"I don't think anything is wrong with me physically, but thanks," Victor answered halfheartedly. "My father took my blood a few times every year and sends it to various people." He remembered his father's cold words, 'if you wanted to be useful to this family at all then give me your blood so someone can figure out what is wrong with you.' Instead of feeling sorry for himself, Victor sworn to become strong instead. He perfected on his swordsmanship relentlessly. He also immersed himself in books.

"Victor, come here," Chris leaned closer to him and gestured for him to follow him, Chris pulled the golden ring mounted on his closet, and watched Victor's expression change with amusement. "all seriousness aside, I have been curious if you have any...fetishes."

Victor's eyes widened as the closet containing whips, chains, feathers and anything he could think of displayed before his eyes. "Nice try Chris," Victor gathered his composure. He knew Chris' exact intentions, and he was not giving in. Anyone else would have been broken by now. Chris could seduce anyone, men and women alike.

"Do you like chains," Chris pulled chains the exact same appearance and the one Yuri couldn't take off and wrapped it around his own neck while eyeing Victor's closely. "Or...demons?" He removed a pair of silver shackles from a higher hook.

Victor shuddered when he saw the shackles, they were demon manacles. He had no clue how they were made, nor he wanted to know. He knew they could cause excruciating pain and unconditional obedience for the demon bound by them. They were rare and incredibly expensive magical tools only the strongest and most powerful possessed.

"These aren't real," Chris put them back observing Victor's pained look, he knew he had gone a little too far. He then pulled out a red velvet blindfold and handed it to Victor, "if you want you can blindfold yourself and pretend that I am him. You can call me Yuri if you want." He gazed at his friend, "I want you to be happy Victor, even if this comfort is temporary."

Victor sighed, and tossed the blindfold right back at him. He knew his friend was sincerely concerned, "thanks, but no thanks." Victor replied flatly. He was secretly glad for Chris' company. There was no use in pretending anything with Chris. Those golden eyes were too sharp, the wit behind them too brilliant. Victor still couldn't understand why a man like Chris choose to stay as a courtesan.

Victor poured himself another drink, gazing down the wine which reminded him of the tiny specks of red in Yuri's beautiful dark eyes. Memories begun to flood back.

* * *

_Yuri was seventeen that year, two years since when they first met. Victor turned twenty that winter. Victor noticed Yuri's body was beginning to change. His shoulders were broader and he was becoming taller and more muscular, yet he was still slender._

_After one of the swords lessons Victor promised to teach Yuri, they jumped into the lake. Victor tried his hardest not to stare. Eventually he had to excuse himself. He suppressed all of his desires for the beautiful boy before him. Victor had sworn to teach Yuri to become strong. He worried for Yuri when he was not there._

_They sat by the warm fire that Yuri lit by smashing two pieces of stones together and ate rabbit stew. They watched the millions of stars decorating the night sky, their brilliance outshining the flickering lights of the remote village. Victor watched Yuri's dark eyes widen with fascination as he listened to the stories about the outside world. There was still a child like innocent about him. Unbeknownst to Victor, this the same darn night Yuri asked him about sex._

_They talked about many things. Victor felt light and free when he was with Yuri. Like he wasn't the black sheep of his family, born to the leader of the Nikiforov mages, with the most potent magical blood running through his veins, yet not manifesting a single trace of magic. Most mages powers begun to show after the age of ten, but Victor's never did. He was not allowed to cut his hair without his powers, according to their tradition._

_Yuri chuckled when he told Victor of the time he saw a young couple from the village sneaking deep into the forest. They almost ran into the wildflower field of the demon butterflies that could bite when tampered with. Yuri couldn't help but rolling his eyes as he sent Nox to steer them in the opposite direction. Despite the way the villagers treated Yuri, he protected them selflessly._

_Victor loved him for his kindness that even Yuri himself could not completely comprehend._

_Yuri then told him he had to leave because the young couple started to kiss and take off their clothes in the forest. He felt wrong to watch. Yuri blushed a little and asked Victor if that's what people who love each other do._

_Victor responded, "sure."_

_Then then suddenly Yuri edged closer to him, gripped onto the loose fabric of his shoulder and looked all serious for a second, "then I want to do it with you, Victor."_

_Victor almost chocked on his stew. Just like that, straightforward and bold, that side of Yuri drove him over the edge. He felt the warmth of Yuri's other hand pat him gently on the back to relieve him from chocking. His own heart raced, all of the feelings he had been suppressing overflowed at once. Of course he wanted him. He wanted him ever since the first day he laid his eyes on him. He could identify the singular moment when he fell deeply, stupidly, helplessly for the innocent yet strangely intoxicating creature before him. He could never forget that moment when Yuri, fifteen at the time, put his hand straight into the fire to show Victor that he would have been alright even if the villagers did try to burn him. Victor remembered the one corner of Yuri's mouth curled up mischievously, his black hair messy in the wind, and his dark eyes wild and filled with the reflection of the flickering flame. Yuri proved to him that he was strong enough on his own. Yuri didn't need him to save his life. Yuri was untouchable by fire..._

_He was fire._

_Victor eventually cleared his throat and came back to reality. He faced Yuri and gazed him straight in the eye and said, "Yuri you are still a child -"_

_"But I am almost eighteen," Yuri protested._

_"I can't," Victor desperately wanted the heat rushing to his face to go away. He pulled Yuri gently close to him with one arm around his shoulder, "we are not having this conversation again...until then." Victor finished lamely, hoping Yuri couldn't hear the way his heart was racing, or feel the heat radiating from his body._

_"Fine." Yuri nuzzled against his chest, "I know you want me."_

_Victor sighed._

* * *

"You are the most boring person to drink with, you know that?" Chris brought him back to reality as he watched Victor gaze hard into the flame of the dark red candle nearby. Chris absentmindedly picked up strands of Victor's long silvery hair and begun to braid it.

"Shut up Chris, I paid for your time didn't I?"

They drank until dawn. When Victor left Chris insisted for him to take the blindfold in case he changed his mind. Victor didn't want to argue with him, he tucked away his unwanted present and left.

Victor asked Chris again if he wanted a different job other than being a courtesan, to which Chris politely refused.

* * *

Victor never felt completely at home in the Nikiforov castle. He entered silently without anyone noticing. He changed into all white in the first room next to the door as per tradition. Those without powers were not allowed to wear red. Most of young apprentices under his father wings in their early teenage years were already crimson clad.

His father had always been cold to him. He had a feeling he was to blame for his mother's death for bringing him into this world. Or perhaps it was shame that he brought to the family because he had no power that brought upon his father's cold rage.

Victor rarely came home anyways.

He walked down the convoluted corridor of the castle with cold white stone walls and walked up the spiral stairs until he reached the room that he grew up in before he moved to serve the king.

His room appeared untouched, with a layer of dust covering his desk and a simple wooden chair. There were so much dust he could not make out the title of the book with dark green cover laying on his desk. His bed with white blankets was untouched. He hasn't slept here for seven years, since he was seventeen.

He gazed outside of his window, clouds were thick, he saw a flash of distant lightning. _Let's get this over with_ , he told himself.

He opened his drawer and pulled out the silver knife and a matching goblet, the only possession his father had given him. He thought it was for his twelfth birthday, but he was wrong.

He remembered his father pulling him aside from the classroom. Most children found their power after the age of ten. He was still clad in white.

His father told him asked him if he wanted to be useful for the Nikiforov family. He eagerly nodded his head. It was one of the few times his father smiled at him, but that smile never reached his cold blue eyes. His father cut his hand with that silver knife with elaborate spiralling patterns etched into the handle. He winced but didn't want to show any sign of pain. His father squeezed the palm of his hands until the red drops perspired out of his open wound then coalesced and trickled into the silver goblet below. His father's grip was so tight that Victor felt his fingertips turning cold. Since then, his father took his blood every two month, without telling him what he did with it. He didn't ask. As Victor grew older, instead of having anything to do with his father, he cut himself and filled the goblet instead.

He cut the palm of his left hand, that spot had been cut and healed so many times that he hardly felt it. He watched his bright red blood trickle down and fill the goblet. As long as he did this every two months or so his father would not summon him. He didn't care what his father did with his blood, research? Sending it out so others could figure out the reason he was without powers. He decided to stop feeling sorry for himself along time ago, instead he read countless books and learned to fight instead. His father didn't say anything when the king personally choose him to be his guard.

He left the goblet filled with his blood on his desk, picked up his sword and begun to leave. As he made his way to the courtyard he walked face to face with the one person he did not want to see.

"Father," Victor nodded without any expression on his face.

His father's cold blue eyes met his blue-green ones, "I need you to deliver something to the King's nephew, a present from our family. It's in the first room at the lower level." His hair was silvery, the same shade as Victors. He stood tall and regal in his crimson robes.

Victor nodded. He was secretly glad he would soon spend time with Yuri Plisetsky again. Demanding, incredibly talented, foul mouthed, and aloof, Yura didn't have any friends his age. Victor was one of the few people on the earth Yura interacted with. In truth, he was like a little brother to him. Victor was grateful for the distraction, because without it he would think about Yuri again.

Surrounding them apprentices clad in red begun to spill out into the courtyard. Many of them already was allowed to cut their hair. His father eyed his long hair and white clothes with disgust one last time before he left.

* * *

Victor pushed open the wooden door as dim light from the torch in the hallway casted eerie shadows on the wall. The present his father prepared for the king's nephew caught him by surprise.

There was a dark haired young man in demon manacles sitting on the ground. His eyes pitch black, the same colour of his hair and tattered clothes. Victor recognized him as a demon right away. Having demon slaves had been a symbol of status recently. Since the king ordered the execution of the demon king and his wife ten years ago, demon were mercilessly slaughtered and shapeshifter were hunted like game animals. Victor cringed when he thought of his father referring the demon before him who appeared no more than sixteen years of age as 'it'.

He couldn't help but think of Yuri once again, and what his connections was to demons. He appeared...human...he did not have the pointed ears and sharp teeth like the boy before him...and he was so damn beautiful. He was the boy loved by demons. Yuri's eyes were wide and shone with a hint of childlike innocence, yet he was strong and untouchable by fire. Victor didn't care what he was. He clutched his chest for a second because of the pain deep inside every time he thought about Yuri.

Victor stood next to the demon on the ground, "what's your name?"

The demon before him growled and narrowed his eyes, "does it matter?" He stood up soundlessly, his footsteps light.

He reminded Victor of an assassin.

Victor couldn't think of anything to say.

* * *

"Victor, you look hung over, got rejected and didn't get laid last night?" Yura watched him through the corner of his forest green eyes. He wore the red robes of the mages that Victor wasn't allowed to wear.

"Yura, you are thirteen," Victor covered half of his face with his palm, "where did you learn all of this from?" Victor winced a little from pain again. _Yuri never came...stupid Yura._ There was a hint of truth within the words of this green eyed monster.

Yura ignored him and eyed the dark haired demon with pitch black eyes behind him in manacles, "who's this?"

Victor sighed, "my father wanted me to deliver him to you."

"I don't want him," Yura wrinkled his eyebrows. "Demon manacles gives me the creeps...and I have enough people following me around, and it's fucking annoying. I don't need another -"

"Yura, language," he Victor said halfheartedly knowing Yura wouldn't listen anyways. Victor thought to himself the stoic demon no older than sixteen was probably better off with Yura than anywhere else. Despite the attitude and the foul mouth, Yura wasn't cruel. He saw Yura shudder as he watched chained demons at the market being auctioned like cattle. Some of them to hunting parties, to be killed for entertainment. Some sold to brothels to be used again and again mercilessly and tossed away. Some sold to nobles as slaves and a symbol of status.

Victor thought about Yuri and felt the knot within his stomach tighten, _what if he was caught..._ but he brushed those thoughts away. Yuri was strong, he had proven himself to Victor over and over. _What if Yuri was a demon..._ He broke a little as he thought of Yuri in manacles waiting to be sold by the very people he protected.

Yura kept on walking deeper into the forest his crimson clothes, starkly contrasted against the green of the fresh leaves of the spring. The only time he was in a good mood was when Victor escorted him to see his grandfather. He was determined to not let the demon ruin his day.

His uncle, the king, called his grandfather a 'demon loving lunatic' ten years ago, and placed him under house arrest in a quiet cabin by a river. It took close to half of a day's journey to get there. There were constantly guards patrolling two hundred feet distance from his grandfather's cabin. They were too scared to be any closer.

Yura begun to run ahead of Victor and the dark haired demon with stoic expression. Victor still had a headache, he watched the boy with golden hair disappear around the corner of the forest path. Rays of sunlight shone through the spaces between the young leaves in April casting moving spots of light on the ground.

Suddenly Victor saw the demon's eye widen as he clutched his chest. Victor knew exactly what was happening, it's one of the terrifying powers of the demon manacles. A demon could not be further than a certain distance from their master. There would be pain. Excruciating pain. _He didn't know..._ Victor took a step closer to the dark haired boy and spoke softly, "you might want to catch up to him."

He could tell the demon was struggling not to let his pain show on his face. But Victor knew, the pain and drowning sensation from the demon manacle could break even the strongest wills. The master behind the demon manacles became the equivalent of the air the demon breathed.

The dark haired boy begun to run, clutching his chest. He looked like he was being burnt alive from the inside.

Victor kept on walking at his own pace, until a small wooden cabin by the river came into his view. He watched as Yura ran up to the tall old man with salt and pepper beard fishing by the river and gave him a big hug.

The demon ran after him and stopped twenty feet away.

Victor could not help himself but to smile every time he watched Yura speak animatedly to his grandfather about his classes. Yura could manipulate time, a few seconds at a time at first, but recently he could hold onto those invisible reins just a little longer. His powers manifested since the age of eight, which was incredibly rare in the world of the mages.

Yura's grandfather was a stern man who meant serious business when he was still involved with the king's court, from what Victor could remember. Cold wisdom seeped through those wrinkles and sharp blue eyes. But ever since he protested after the king burning the demon king and his wife, his powers were bound, and he was placed under house arrest. Victor thought the old man was much happier despite being a prisoner.

"Who's this," Yura's grandfather gazed at the dark haired demon standing in a tripod position trying to catch his breaths.

Yura suddenly turned around sending strands of his golden locks in front of his forest green eyes, "oh that _thing_." He sighed.

The tall old man in his simple dark green robes took a few steps forwards and frowned when he saw the shiny silver demon manacles around his hands and feet. He gently gripped the demon's wrist, his bright blue eyes met the demon's pitch black ones, "what's your name." He spoke with the demon as if he was a mage, not some low life the entire kingdom despised.

Silence.

Then Yura's grandfather greeted him in a language that Victor didn't understand. It was a beautiful language, almost melodic and soft like a whisper of the wind.

Victor watched the demon's eyes widen all of a sudden as he tilted his chin up gazing at the old man who just spoke with him in the ancient language of his kind. Anyone ordinary who dared to speak that language would be put to death instantaneous.

"Let's try our introduction again, shall we?" the old man broke into a toothy smile, "tell me your name."

Yura crossed his arms before his chest and frowned, as if jealous of the secret moment between his beloved grandfather and his unwanted present.

"My name is Otabek," the dark haired boy answered, "Otabek Altin." Then he repeated the greeting in the ancient language of the demons.

"Nice to meet you, Otabek," the old man shook his hand.

Otabek hesitated a little because of the way he had been treated before now were no different than animals. He shook the old man's hand back.

"It's a shame that you had to wear these ugly things," Yura's grandfather gazed at the demon manacles with disgust.

Otabek's lips were pressed together tightly, his stoic expression difficult to read. It had been days since anyone acknowledged him by his name.

Suddenly the old man patted him on the back firmly with his large hands and laughed, "Yurachka, I like him already."

Victor heard Yura growl, almost cat like. He knew Yura was probably cursing with every foul word he knew inside his head.

Suddenly Yura's stomach let out a loud growl also, he clutched it with his gloved hands.

"I made pirozhkis for you," His grandfather turned towards his cabin, "I am glad you are here to try some too, Otabek." Then he shifted his gaze towards his grandson and then at Otabek, "he doesn't have any friends his age."

"Grandpa!" Yura protested with indignation his face slightly red.

For the first time since he returned without seeing Yuri, Victor laughed.

"Victor, come help me, we'll eat outside," Yura's grandfather turned around and Victor followed him.

"You are not allowed to lie," as soon as Victor and Yura's grandfather was out of sight, Yura gritted his teeth and leaned dangerously close. "What do you want to do to me if you didn't have the demon manacles around your wrists?"

Otabek narrowed his eyes as he waited for the pain from the damned demon manacles to pass because he took to long before he answered, "I would wring your neck, lick your blood from my hands after I shred you into small pieces," then the pain restarted, he had to continue, "I am not done...then I will feed you to the rats in the sewers."

 _He was a demon...indeed._ Yura thought sarcastically to himself, _a fine gift from your asshole of a dad, Victor, way to go._ He knew they were stuck with each other, because the demon manacles did not allow Otabek to be a certain distance away without excruciating pain that even the strongest would know better than trying to escape. Even Otabek, defiant and dignified, would crawl back to Yura.

"Fuck you, Altin, get away from me," Yura glared back.

"Gladly, _Master_ ," Otabek was determined not to let the pain on his body show on his face. This time the pain became milder each step he took away from the arrogant thirteen year old mage with short golden.

Yura had a funny feeling that Otabek had a slight smirk on his face.

* * *

One more year passed by.

Victor could never forget the day he found his powers.

He waited by the place that Yuri promised to meet him for as long as he lived until night fall. Dark clouds gathered overhead. He knew, a storm was coming.

He bit into his lip until he tasted blood.

Yuri didn't come. He felt the hot tears stinging in his eyes.

Four years passed and he still could not let go. He leaned against the tree by the turquoise lake on top of the mountain. Wind rustled the branches violently revealing the under side of the leaves. Victor clutched the painful place over his heart. _Yuri, come back to me...or just give me a sign that you are alright...and that you are safe. That's all I am asking for..._ He squeezed his eyes tightly shut.

When it came to Yuri, he was completely helpless.

Suddenly a flash of lighting struck the earth next to him setting the grass on fire for a split second. The fire was quenched by the large droplets of the rain in the pitch blackness. Victor saw another flash of lightning hit the earth, this time even closer to where he was. He wasn't sure what made him do it, he opened his palms and welcomed the rain. He didn't care if another flash of lightning lit the tree on fire, taking his life with it. But golden light erupted from the palms of his hands and soared straight into the clouds above instead.

Power and heat buzzed through his veins, his golden beams zigzagged through the darkness like lightning but in reverse. The air around him sizzled. He could hear the rapid pounding of his own heart. He wasn't expecting his secret dream of manifesting his own magic to come true in this moment of weakness. In this moment when he didn't want anything other than to have Yuri back by his side.

He took a few steps from under the tree, his palms overflowing with beams of gold flickering from the heaven to the earth. Victor closed his eyes and felt the raindrops trickling down his forehead and down his eyes mixing with the forbidden tears that he shed for Yuri alone.

Victor gripped onto the hilt of the sword with his right hand and his long hair heavy from the soaking rain with his left. With one swift motion, silver locks drifted towards the earth like feathers from the wings of a fallen angel lost in the darkness.

* * *

* * *

**Author's notes:**

Thank you for reading my story, for the kudos, and the kind comments! 

I wanted to portray Victor as resilient despite of the adversity in his childhood. I intended for both Victor and Yuri to be strong, and to face each other as equals.

I had fun writing this chapter, though I do confess to getting distracted and writing the scene that I really wanted to write in the next chapter.

The real story can now begin:

Chapter 4: Reunion

You ready?

xoxo

Antares


	4. Reunion

Yura didn't have any friends his age. He turned fifteen recently. Six months passed since Victor's father gave him the unwanted present in the form of a dark haired demon named Otabek Altin.

Yura was furious. At the fact that his beloved grandfather asked him to bring the demon with him each time he visited. Not that he had a choice, because the demon manacles did not allow Otabek to be further than a certain distance from him because it inflicted pain enough to make even the strongest demon break and crawl back to his master. He had to watch his grandfather speak in a language only the two of them understood. Victor watched Yura with an amused expression on his face. _Stupid Victor._ He shuddered. _Fucking Otabek._ He swore silently remembering what the demon said he would do to him if he wasn't shackled. Otabek said he would cut Yura into small pieces and feed him to the rats. That wasn't a lie either. Lying also inflicted pain that resembled having every bone rippled from the body. Yura forced those words out of him.

Yura begun to doze off inside the classroom within the castle belonging to Victor's family. His father ran the school for only the most powerful mages in training. He rested his chin in his palm, the instructor . droned on about the history of their land and the names of the first kings (Yura's ancestors). Around him, the entire class wore red robes of the apprentices whose powers awakened. He didn't give a shit about any of them.

None of the other teenagers dared to mess with Yura directly, because he was the king's nephew after all. But it was no secret nobody knew who his father was. Yura's mother was the King's sister, who was remembered as the tomboy princess with wild golden hair and forest green eyes. She was loved by nobles and commoners alike. She passed away before Yura had any memories. Yura could hardly even remember what his mother looked like. He was told he was the splitting image of his mother, except for he was perpetually angry.

He also knew the other teenagers in his classes within the Nikiforov castle secretly called him the 'bastard child'. Yura remembered asking his grandfather about his father once. To which his grandfather sighed and responded that he would tell him someday when he was older. His grandfather also revealed that was one choice his mother made that she would never regret. Yura wondered if he would rather have no idea who his father was or have an asshole of a dad like Victor.

Yura's stomach growled, he thought about the pirozhki his grandfather made for him while wondering how much longer he had to sit here. The classroom was warm, his dark red gloves clung to his hands relentlessly. Some mages choose to wear the red gloves as a form of power restraint. Before a mage learned to control her powers they often wore these to prevent burning or unleashing their magic in unwanted places. Victor rarely took his gloves off.

* * *

In the mean time Otabek worked in the stables tending to the horses, feeding them, and of course shovelled the manure. He didn't realize how much shit these beasts could generate in such a short span of time. They eat, and they shit. All day long. He felt at peace with the horses for some strange reason, he felt better in the company of the animals than any human. His hands were clammy from the rough brown gloves he wore. He took them off and rubbed on the calluses on his hands.

Suddenly he heard voices of the young mages fill the courtyard as their lessons came to an end. His sharp demon senses could pick up every conversation.

From twenty feet away he saw a tall red haired, lanky boy around the age of sixteen whisper to the shorter fat boy who filled the red robes of the Nikiforov mages like a overstuffed sausage. "...his mother was a whore, she probably opened her legs for some demon."

The short and fat boy snickered, he neared some resemblance to an overfed pig. "We should spread those words around...just because he is the King's nephew, doesn't mean we acknowledge him as royalty. I mean, he is stuck up like there's something permanently shoved up his ass..."

"And that demon slave of his, he gives me the creeps, Plisetsky never whipped or disciplined that thing..."the tall one continued.

"Maybe he loves demons like his lunatic grandfather, maybe he took that thing to bed and they fu-" suddenly a pebble bounced off his temple leaving a bruise and two muddy spots on his crimson robes, the short one's face filled with rage, "ow! Show yourself!"

Otabek found another piece of rock amongst the manure in the stable. From the shadows he flicked it as hard as he could, his aim precise and deadly, because he was once trained to be a warrior. A little more force he could crack the skull like an egg.

This time the taller teenager swore, as he scratched his head.

"You smell like horse shit, Rex," the short one sniffles the air with his fat nose resembling a hog.

Rex wrinkled his nose, "you too, Zackary, you piece of turd." They quickly scurried away.

Otabek wasn't sure what made him do it, perhaps it was demon manacles commanding him to defend his master, or perhaps...he didn't hate Yura as much as he thought he did. He shook that thought away. He would still kill Yura if he had the chance, he meant every word when he said he would wring his neck and cut him into pieces when Yura forced those words out of him using the powers of the demon manacles.

* * *

Yura stepped into the bath that Otabek filled for him sending waves of warm lavender scented water over the edge. In truth they hardly ever spoke, which was better in Yura's opinion. He was getting used to the demon's silent presence, and the way Otabek walked soundlessly. He didn't mind the demon's quiet brooding presence. People who spoke too much annoyed him. He couldn't recall the last time he actively triggered the demon manacle's power. He knew with those silver manacles potent with magic, the taller and more muscular demon could not lay even a finger on him.

More and more demon slaves appeared inside the palace lately over the past year. Possessing demon slaves all of a sudden became a symbol of status. _That's all bullshit..._ Yura thought to himself. His patience ran very thin for the superfluous intricacies of the court, "Beka, come here." He knew he couldn't get rid of Otabek because that would be rude towards Victor's asshole dad. 

The seventeen year old demon walked towards the edge of the bath made of white marble. His expression stoic like usual.

"Get in," Yura gestured with his chin as he watched Otabek's thick dark eyebrows wrinkle together. He had already cleaned himself in the servant's quarters in the cold water. He knew calling him Beka irritated him but he did it anyways on purpose to torture the taller demon a little. He watched Beka's jaw clench as he took a few steps forwards.

"I am already clean," Otabek crossed his arms before his chest.

"Your master is rewarding you to a warm bath, you ungrateful -" before Yura could finish he heard a few splashes of water. His green eyes widened as Otabek stepped into the water fully clothed. Exasperated, "did they teach you manners before deeming you qualified to serve in the palace?"

Otabek's plain black robes were soaked, water dripped down from the side of his face.

Yura thought he looked unusually tense when it came to water. His hands gripped firmly on the pitch black of his sleeves on both sides, his dark eyes hard, and avoided Yura's forest-green ones. He looked like he was in more pain than the amount those cursed demon manacles could inflict. "You are not going to undress?" Yura's inquisitive gaze transfixed upon him, he could make him if he really wanted to. Yura could make him do anything, including eating dirt, lick his feet and cut off his own fingers one by one...

For the first time, Otabek shook his head.

Fascinated, Yura stood up from the water, steam evaporated from his pale skin. He took a few steps until the tip of his nose came dangerously close towards the demon's face and with one hand he gripped onto Otabek's collar. He never saw Otabek this unsettled before.

"Please...don't touch me..." Otabek averted his gaze, his voice straining.

Yura knew, Otabek is hiding something on his back.

Suddenly Yura realized the reason Otabek acted that way. _They must have done things to him..._ those slave handlers. A wave of pure disgust coursed through him. His uncle, the king, hated demons, and declared it to be legal to make them slaves and to kill them without repercussion ever since that day he burnt the demon king and queen twelve years ago. Since then the slave traders flourished, like a festering wound spread throughout this kingdom. They raided demon villages, snatched the beautiful young ones after they had their ways with them.

The demon king and queen, under the false premise of a peace treaty slaughtered the king's entire family at the feast. Yura heard the way his aunt, the queen, and her daughter Princess Arianna were brutally murdered in a manner so gruesome that only the bravest in the court could bear to clean up the scene. Their eyes were gouged out, along with their heart and lungs. Similar murders were also turning up throughout the kingdom. The demon king and queen were ordered to be executed without a trial by the Nikiforov mages. 

Yura released Otabek abruptly.

He sighed and sat back down into the water, "Fine, get lost."

Otabek quickly excused himself, his dark eyes met Yura's for the very first time, with perhaps slightly less hatred this time.

"And Beka, fetch my riding clothes, my uncle summoned me for the hunt," Yura's voice reverberated in the brightly lit room with the twenty feet marble bath beginning with a water fountain with carvings of angels. "You can stay in the carriage at the back...and I forbid you from looking outside, this is a sport for royalty, and not the likes of you." _Beka,_   _I don't want you to see this._

Because the object of their prey was Otabek's very own kind.

They hunted shape-shifters.

* * *

Yura, dressed in dark blue riding pants with leather boots past his knees. His overcoat was white, with intricate blue embroidery. Underneath he wore a leather vest with too many laces. He found the entire outfit ridiculous. He decided to keep his red gloves worn by the Nikiforov mages. He mounted on a white horse and Victor joined him shortly. He nodded acknowledging the mage, whose hair was now short at the back, a few longer locks parted to one side fell before his eyes.

"Where's Otabek?" The sound of the hooves of Victor's black horse slowed down in front of him.

"I told him to stay in the carriage at the back," Yura was used to his presence, "I forbid him from looking out of the window." He added darkly.

Victor nodded, a small smiled appeared on his face. He saw Yura change over the past several months, subtly but noticeably. Yura used to think of nobody but himself and occasionally for his grandfather and Victor. But the demon named Otabek changed him, for the first time Yura looked out for someone else. Though Yura had no insight that he actually cared. Victor sighed, _let's get this over with._ He was glad he was only there as the king's guard and that he didn't have to aim at shapeshifters trapped in their animal form. He pulled the reins on his faithful black horse and squeezed him lightly with his legs until the horse trotted away.

They passed by the flourishing marketplace, where the merchants were hollering to boost the sale of their goods. There were fish merchants busy piling their latest catch from the morning. The scales of the fish glistening in the sun. The streets were teeming with life. Despite the immoral acts by the slave handlers, this kingdom prospered from that trade.

Victor's eyes narrowed as he saw a raised platform and scantly clad demons with chains around their necks. One of them stood out to him, her hair was bright red flowing past her chin, her eyes piercing blue the colour of bellflowers. She would have been the object of many men's desires if she were simply human, except her ears were slender and pointed. She wore a simple white shift so translucent that the pink colour of her nipples showed. She tried to cover her chest by crossing her arms but her handlers tugged the chains around her wrist with a leering smile on his face.

Victor thought about turning his horse right around, but he caught a flash of dark violet in the crowd. Chris was dressed more like a noble than a courtesan, their eyes met for a split second. Chris winked through his long golden lashes, he slowed his horse down. A flash of understanding came between them. Even though they have been friends for years, Chris was still a mystery to Victor. Victor didn't pry, he knew Chris exchanged more than money, he possessed information far more valued than money. Chris dealt in secrets, and occasionally he went on unknown expeditions for a few months at a time.

"Let us see all of it," Victor's stomach turned as he heard a man's voice as a small crowd gathered around the beautiful elfin demon.

Chris unmounted from the horse, and soundless he leapt up onto the platform where the chained demon slaves were on display. The slave handler was a middle aged but balding man with buck teeth, his appearance almost horse like. He looked more like a demon than actual demons. He saw Chris and grinned because he knew someone dressed like him had deep pockets.

Chris lifted the girl's chin. Her sharp blue eyes narrowed and filled with hatred.

"Master," the slave handler let out a toothy overzealous grin, "I see this one seems to suit your taste, but she is going to cost you a pretty penny." He wagged a finger with untrimmed yellow nail. 

Then a sack of gold coins landed before him, the crowd gasped and took a few steps back. They hardly ever see that much money laid before anyone. A few glistening gold pieces tumbled onto the wooden platforms.

The slave trader giggled, unable to contain his excitement, "take it." Demons were referred to as 'it' in this kingdom, "young master...as you already know...the king required..."

Before he finished his sentence Chris already pulled out a brand new pair of demon manacles. He bit his finger and dripped two of his own blood onto the intricate silver rings designed to fit onto her slender wrists. He pulled one of her hands roughly and snapped it on. Possessing demons was a sign of wealth in this kingdom, and no ordinary citizen could afford a pair of demon manacles. Then Chris suddenly sensually moved closer to her until his face was almost buried in her hair. He purposefully blocked her body from the crowd's view.

She refused to beg or cry. Her bellflower eyes defiant.

Chris whispered in her hair, "pretend you are in pain if you want to live on with dignity."

She let out a desperate scream anticipating the pain from the demon manacles binding her to him. Except the pain never came.

Chris removed his dark violet travel cloak and wrapped it around her. He saw her lips finally trembled, he covered her bright red hair with the hood of his violet cloak around her body.

In the mean time the slave handler scurried to untie her shackles, his hand jittery from the excitement and he dropped the keys multiple times. His eyes lingered still on her body through the transparent shift as he knelt. She wore nothing under that shift.

Chris lifted her thin frame by wrapping one arm around her waist and one hand behind her legs and leapt off the wooden platform landing soundlessly.

The crowd sighed because now she was covered.

"Enjoy," the slave handler yelled after Chris as he rode away.

Chris wrinkled his eyebrows in disgust as he signaled his horse to get away from this place. He finally felt the girl's shoulders shiver then a hot drop of tear fell from underneath the violet hood onto his hands, "it's alright love, I won't make you do anything you don't want to do." He whispered in her ear, "these manacles are fake". He handed her a handkerchief. Hot drops would not stop falling.

From the corner of his eyes Chris caught Victor watching, his expression soft.

* * *

Yura rode silently next to Victor, not uttering a single word. He watched the king's guards open up the cages. He peered inside. There were animals with thin chains around their necks. He averted their eyes, because their eyes were too...human. The chains around their necks were made from the same materials as the demon manacles.

The chains kept them from transformation into their human form. If they tried the chains would not give, it would choke them, crushing their windpipes until they slowly withered away. Yura shuddered. He watched the peregrine falcon ruffling its feather inside the cage. Suddenly the bird of prey charges towards the side of the cage. A mage nearby sent a steak of power resembling making it shudder in pain as its feathers burnt.

Yura wondered what Beka's true form was.

* * *

 

Otabek sat alone in the carriage towards the back, his hands still clasped tightly over his own sleeves. He could hear the sound of hooves outside and occasional cheers. Yura chained his hands together to a ring bolted to the ground. He watched the dust floating before him from the narrow ray of light from a gap in the blinds.

Suddenly he heard two familiar voices and his stomach clenched. It was the same two boys he flung rocks at in the courtyard of the Nikiforov castle. Looks like Zakary and Rex were sons of nobles.

"I think he kept it here," Rex's voice approached. Zakary's heavy thudding footsteps accompanied him.

Otabek tried not to breathe, then he saw blue eyes peering at him temporarily obscuring the single ray of light and floating dust.

He heard Zakary giggle, "should we beat him to pulp?"

"No, I have a better idea," Rex then whispered something inaudible. Then the two of them let out shrilling laughter.

Suddenly the horses let out a whine, and the entire carriage rocked and begun to accelerate. Otabek braced himself for the impact of this temple against the wooden sill. A sickening feeling begun to form around his stomach. They startled the horses forcing Otabek to move away from Yura, which means the demon manacle would activate and there would be...pain.

White hot burning sensation radiated through his entire body. He curled up, his arms pulling the chains taught. He tried to break them before moving any further away but the metal ring on the ground would not give. He cursed Yura under his breath. He cursed the demon manacles. He cursed himself for not being able to break his bonds. His lungs were on fire. The horses showed no sign of slowing down. Then the physical pain changed and the gut wrenching part begun. He felt like a beast ripped his chest open and begun to feast on him alive. A wave of desire to be back by Yura's side washed over him, growing stronger and stronger, until he could not control himself. Black dots danced before his eyes, he panted and his entire body and soul shuddered because of the magic from the demon manacles.

He needed Yura.

* * *

Otabek slowly opened his eyes. He felt warmness gliding across his forehead wiping his cold sweat away. There was a gentleness to that touch and the air filled with a light hint of the forest. Suddenly the figure wiping the cold sweat from his forehead recoiled, and his head almost hit the ground. He was startled when he found his head resting in Yura's lap.

"Beka, you are...awake," Yura took off his heavily embroidered riding coat and wrapped it around him, he quickly moved his gloved hand away from Otabek's forehead.

Otabek's hands were no longer chained together. He didn't say anything. All of the pain left his body sore and heavy. He was trained to fight, none of his wounds from his training, from his missions, or from the sheer brutality of the slave traders compared to the pain of separation. His lips were dry. From the corner of his eyes he saw Yura pull out his own water flask and held it to his lip. He didn't move. He wasn't sure how much time have passed.

"Don't be stubborn," Yura nudged him painfully in the ribs, "drink." He held the elixir of life close to Otabek's lip.

* * *

Yura knew exactly who the culprits were.

He found the reins of time easily in the area twenty feet surrounding him and pulled with his mind. The warm familiar power whirled and buzzed through his body, impatient and unable to contain itself. The two teenagers stopped in mid sentence with a stuporous expression on their faces. Time stopped around him. He kicked the tall red haired mage named Rex behind the knees until he fell forwards in a thud his long limbs sprawled awkwardly. Yura then proceeded to do the same with Zakary, but that required much more force.

"Remember your place in the world," Yura's eyes filled with fury as he unleashed the flow of time again and watched them crawl, "on your knees."

Rex looked like he was going to wet himself.

"You are lucky because if anything happened to my possession," Yura's eyes narrowed saturated with disgust that mages who were suppose to be guardians of the kingdom acted this way, "I will make you piss blood for a whole week, and wish that you were never born."

When it came to magic, nobody his age came even close to being his match. He knew he would get into deep trouble for this later, but he didn't care.

He never chained Otabek's hands after that.

* * *

Two years since Victor found his powers, the war broke out.

The demons begun to fight back.

Victor turned twenty seven. He was now allowed to wear red and leave his hair short. The way his father treated him was no different. They continued their silent routine, where Victor dropped off his blood in a silver goblet from time to time.

The king sent Victor for report at the front lines. He rode for three day and nights until he reached the plain where the latest battle took place. Overlooking the cliffs he watched blood spill. Mages' crimson robes stained with garnet. Demons' bodies littered the grass, some mangled in a pile of scale and fur. Occasional burning from the the mage's powers being unleashed resulted in unearthly cries. From his vantage point, it wasn't clear which side is winning. But he knew this battle must end by nightfall, because the demons would be at a clear advantage after dark.

He wore light armour with dark red breast plates. His faithful sword by his side. His black horse galloped towards the battlefield sending dirt and pebbles flying behind them.

Suddenly a flash of silver and black caught his eyes from thirty feet away. There was a black clad figure with a sword in his hand.

The way he moved looked...familiar. Strangely like the way Victor himself fought. Suddenly his hand touched the ground, and a orange chasm of lava zigzagged from that spot. His face fearless, stained with blood, angular yet soft at same time.

Victor's heart almost stopped as the figure from thirty feet away gazed straight at him. The sounds of the bloody battlefield around him became a blur, the smell of blood and ashes died down a little.

For the first time in six years they faced each other once again, on the opposite sides of the battlefield.

In Yuri's eyes, Victor saw everything except for hatred.

* * *

The demons lost this time. They disappeared into the forest.

The night had fallen, Victor paced back and forth in the watchtower lit by torches. He waited for the day guards to retreat to their quarters, leaving the skeleton crew patrolling for the night. He took a torch and headed to the dungeons below. His heart was pounding, he was praying that Yuri was safe. Even though Yuri betrayed him, he couldn't bring himself to hate him, not now, not ever. If he wasn't able to find Yuri in prison, he would flip the battle ground upside down in case he was injured, in case he was still alive. _Maybe Yuri escaped..._ he ran thought the possibilities in his head. He couldn't let go of the thought of how close Yuri was to him, even though their eyes met for those few precious moments before Yuri blocked an attack from an axe with his blade. Yuri fought in the same strokes and the same steps he did. Victor was the one who taught him everything. Victor wasn't prepared to let go of him again. He needed an answer.

_Where was he all these years? Why didn't he come back?_ More questions coursed through his mind. He was desperate for answers.

With a torch in his hand, he went through every single cell of the dungeon, some demons hissed at him, others bared their teeth. Some were in their demi form, others didn't bother and stayed in the forms of animals. 

Finally he opened the cell with an additional door, he knew this place was meant to keep the most dangerous prisoners.

His heart pounded against his chest because this was the last door remaining because if Yuri weren't here he was going to turn every rock over on the battlefield. 

He never imagined the circumstance of their reunion would be like this...

"Victor," Yuri sat on the ground amongst a tangle of chains. He was bound at the wrists and feet. He gazed up at him with his deep red eyes. His hair now pushed back. Slowly he stood up, sending a wave of clanking sounds from the thick heavy chains. His name was all Yuri said.

Victor couldn't see his expression from the dim light.

One million thoughts were racing through Victor's mind.

But one desire burnt stronger than anything else, stronger than his urge to shake Yuri until he gave him answers. Victor would do anything to keep Yuri from harm.

Victor knew, the only way he could protect Yuri came with a hefty price. Because of who they were, because they belonged to different worlds. He had to keep Yuri away, from his world and from himself. He realized they could never be together. A demon and a Nikiforov mage - whose simple touch could turn lesser demons into ashes. His immediate family _specialized_ in killing demons and burning them with the blue flames. He had to get Yuri out of here. Before they put on the demon manacles. Victor shuddered at the thought of Yuri being bond to his father through magic.

To keep Yuri away from himself for good, he had to break himself. 

Victor wanted to say, _not a day passed when I didn't think of you._

Instead his blue-green eyes hardened and narrowed against his will, "six years ago I made a foolish mistake." He broke a little, like the first small crack on a glacier before an avalanche burying an entire world below.

He wanted to say, _I thought I could forget...with time..._

"Forget about everything I said back then. You mean nothing to me," his voice icy, "nothing..." his word ended in a whisper. He felt a strange sense of calm before the storm. He gritted his teeth. He would do anything to keep Yuri safe. He felt like he was an observer, outside of his body.

He wanted to say, _I missed you...You have no fucking clue how much..._

But instead, Victor leaned closer, pretending to be his father, their likeness uncanny, "the next time I see you, I will kill you...but for what I did to you six years ago, I will let you leave." He thought he did well, without his voice cracking, or tears spilling from his eyes. He couldn't look at Yuri in the eyes. He knew he could not last any longer, there was a deep twisting pain inside his chest gnawing at him, consuming him alive, sucking all of the air from his lungs. He didn't want to see Yuri's face right now. He would rather be stabbed over and over than to turn around. He walked towards the door and left his torch inside the groove between dark stones of the watchtower. He was grateful for the dim lights and weak flames from the torches sending eerie shadows on the walls. He reached for the key to Yuri's prison. It took all of his self control to keep his fingers from dropping it.

"You are a terrible liar, Victor."

That was all it took, the hard wall that he was determined to build crumbled. He thought lying to Yuri to protect him at the price of himself was the bravest thing he had ever done.

Yuri saw straight through him.

He watched crystalline tears pour out of Yuri's beautiful eyes. His irises were completely dark red now. Victor remembered they used to be almost black only with tiny crimson flecks. He couldn't forget that night when Yuri gave himself away, his eyes were wide and they shone with almost childlike innocent. He would give anything to hold Yuri in his arms again. He couldn't believe that this day would come. He waited for Yuri by the sacred lake on top of the mountain on the same day for the past six years. He was planning to return to that place for the rest of his life. He saw Yuri's knuckles turn white from gripping against the bars. He saw little flickers of hope return in Yuri's crimson eyes as Yuri watched his expression soften, and that hope was the most beautiful thing in the world.

"Yuri...for six _damn_ years I waited," Victor's usual invisible mask of confidence dissolved completely into dust, his voice trembled as his short silver locks fell before his eyes, " _where_ were you?"

"I...explaining will take time," Yuri's eyes downcast towards the dark dungeon floor, "It was the only way I knew to keep you safe. Victor, look at me," his dark red eyes locked with Victor's blue-green ones, "I don't think I need to explain to you what I am."

Victor couldn't take his eyes off him. His gaze transfixed with Yuri's face. He knew. He didn't want to admit it to himself. He knew. He had always known.

With trembling hands Victor reached out to him through the bars.

He didn't give a damn what Yuri was. 

Suddenly a jolt of white hot pain shot through both of them followed by a sizzling sound and the disturbing smell of flesh on fire. The place where their bare skin touched burnt both of them.

They realized at that very moment what their powers were meant to do.

They were destined to destroy each other.

But they didn't care. 

Victor begun to unwound the chains locking Yuri within.

"Yuri, I am sorry, for saying those things, I -" even though Yuri was the one who broke their promise and left him behind for six years, Victor couldn't help but to apologize for things he just said when he imagined how much it would have hurt Yuri if he meant every word.

"I thought with time I could forget about you, Victor," Yuri's left hand slowly reached towards Victor's lips until Victor could feel his warmth but not his touch. The tip of his fingertips curled, "the truth is...not a day have passed when I didn't think of you...The thought of you moving on, forgetting, being with other people..." He couldn't finish.

Victor heart almost stopped. Yuri spoke every word Victor meant to say.

"Victor, I miss you."

Victor dropped the chains onto the ground and the gate swung open. He opened his arms.

Yuri buried his head against Victor's chest, he was even taller than Victor remembered.

Victor couldn't speak, he clung to him. Before Yuri he was neither the next in line for the leader of the Nikiforov mages nor the most powerful swordsman in the entire kingdom. He was himself, without any mask or disguise. He was weak, naked, transparent, and trembling in darkness.

Yuri pressed his body hard against his, desperately feeling every line of him and inhaling his familiar scent.

Victor wanted time to stop. "Yuri, I...don't care what you are, I don't care about your past...I don't care if I could never touch you again," he fumbled through his crimson robes for a pair of dark red gloves. He slid his hands into them, "just...stay close to me."

"Meet me at the lake three days from now. I'll tell you everything," Yuri leaned closer.

Victor nodded. He touched Yuri's lips with two gloved fingers, he craved for their softness, their familiarity. He wanted those lips over ever inch of his body, including the forbidden places. But that was impossible now, because their powers burnt each other each time their bare skin touched, like fire from the earth meeting fire from the sky.

Yuri slowly closed his eyes. Victor leaned forwards and kissed him softly on the lips with two of his own gloved fingers in between.

Victor wiped the trail of tears on Yuri's face with his gloved hand.

"I knew you would come," Yuri, with a small mischievous smile tapped the chain bounding his wrist with one finger. It glowed orange and the the heavy metal wilted beneath, "do you really think I could be kept behind these bars?"

Victor realized at that Yuri let himself be captured on purpose, he gambled with his own life to meet him again. He couldn't help but be surprised by the beautiful demon before him time and time again. Yuri was strong. He didn't need saving.

Suddenly Victor turned because he heard footsteps approaching.

"You need to leave," Victor inhaled sharply, awestruck as he watched Yuri's left hand glow as he turned the cold stone into molten lava, sizzling and burning the hay on the ground sending wisps of grey smoke. The hole grew bigger and the rocks crumbled until Yuri was able to walk straight through.

With one last hit of his breathtaking smile, Yuri disappeared into the night.

Victor'a lips curled up, he couldn't believe how strong Yuri had become. A wave of pride flooded with him and filled his entire body along with an indescribable warmth. Moments before the door creaked open behind him, he managed rewound the chains of the flimsy prison the could never hold a demon as power as Yuri. He then shot a surge of his own power through the right side of his chest and braced himself for the pain. He tasted blood trickling down the corner of his lips as his vision blurred. He knew he had to make this scene look convincingly like how Yuri attacked him and escaped.

His entire body ached, he leaned his dead weight against the rusty bars and slowly slid down. He could smell his own flesh burning and the sickening scent of clothes on fire. The warm drop of metallic blood trickled from the corner of his lip and disappeared into the crimson of his robes.

Despite the pain, Victor was happy.

* * *

**Author's notes:**

I loved writing the final scene of this chapter.

Though disturbing, I do think there is an undercurrent of hope in this chapter, can you see it?

You'll also meet my original character shortly, I love her. One of the things i enjoy the most is writing strong female characters. None of the female characters from YoI had the vibe I was looking for. My favourite female characters are: Rukia, Mikasa, Estelle (Legend of Arslan), Cagalli (Gundam seed), Izana (knights of Sidonia), and outside of the anime world Luna Lovegood.

Next chapter: Yuri kept his promise.

Finally.

The scene I really wanted to write is there.

xoxo

Antares


	5. Unbreakable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank Rimfrost for being my lovely beta reader!

Two days till they promised to meet again.

Yuuri caught himself trying to suppress his smile, multiple times a day. Even though they were in the middle of a war, and Victor and him stood on opposite sides. The selfish part of him couldn't help himself.

Minako saw right through him, "Yuuri, you seem distracted," her violet robes flowing behind her perfect figure, "again!" Apart from Mari, she was the next closest thing to family to him. Tough love was also included in the part of almost like family. She knew Yuuri, and things that motivate him well enough to push him to become stronger. In other words, she knew exactly how to light a fire under his ass.

The power of three pairs of demon manacles around his wrists tugged at him, twisting his will to do her bidding. Yuuri found the centre of that force in his mind, grasped onto it and pushed.

Minako didn't back down, she amplified the power of the cursed demon manacles, forcing Yuuri to fall onto his knees. "Focus, Yuuri. You should be able to resist five of these by now."

Yuuri clawed at the grass at his feet, he felt white hot burning pain radiating from his arm through his entire body from disobeying the demon manacles. That burning felt familiar, like that moment yesterday when Victor's bare skin touched his face. Then he had a flashback of Victor pressing his lips against his, with two of his gloved fingers in between before they parted. He couldn't help himself but to smile again. The earth below his hands begun to stir, smoke rose from the spaces between the webs of his fingers. Victor, _I can't wait to see you again, you have no idea_. Yuuri pursed his lips so Minako would not see him grinning like an idiot.

The pain from the demon manacles pulled him back towards reality. He took a deep breath and dug his nails into the palm of his own hands.

Then with quivering shoulders Yuuri stood up, beads of cold sweat covered his forehead.

Suddenly the felt the tension in the air dissipated from the manacles as Minako withdrew her magic.

Minako and Celestino put Yuuri through the grinder for the past six years. They taught him how to control his powers that could turn the earth into lava. Sometimes they were merciless towards him, like today for instance.

Celestino was the general under Yuuri's father's wings, before the demon King was executed in cold blood by the Nikiforov mages of the capital fourteen years ago without a trial. Minako was a former Nikiforov mage who fell for the the charms of the tall demon general with loud laugh, and long hair pulled in a ponytail. She left the prestige and her entire world behind and followed him instead.

"That's it for today," Minako also had a smile that she couldn't wipe off her face.

Yuuri mirrored her expression because her wedding was the very next day. He could tell she was excited and nervous at the same time. Yuuri could see the villagers prepare for the ceremony out of the corner of his eyes. He saw Yuuko raising her hand as vine and flowers blossomed before her and her three children with curved horns like their father's giggling with delight.

"You'll be fine Minako," Yuuri placed one of his hands softly on her shoulder. Demons had different customs from the world she was familiar with.

"Thanks Yuuri," her brown eyes glistened, "I have to go check on the the wards with Mari."

Mari and Minako could not venture far from the secret village of the demons because they were needed to maintain its illusion. Yuuri's sister was born with the gift of turning space into a blank canvas. She weaved the image of the ravine leading to nothingness over the secret village where demons that escaped the massacre from the mages settled. Mari manipulated the space, while Minako amplified her powers, making them the perfect duo. As more rescued demons settled in the village, they had to expand the barrier to three times its original size.

* * *

 

One day till they promised to meet again.

The village was teeming with life, Yuuri and Phichit helped carry firewood towards the lake three hundred feet away. Like Victor and Yuuri's turquoise lake on top of the mountain, this one was another sacred site for the demon kind. When demons come of age they journey to these lakes because the water dilutes the pain from the transformation. 

A little ahead of them Mari, in her orange dress - the same colour as the sunset – was conjuring lanterns into midair as she smoked her pipe. The lanterns were shaped like bellflowers, translucent and lavender. Mari strutted lazily until the lanterns outlined a perfect circle, as the tip of her pipe intermittently glowed.

Yuuri didn't know his sister, who had grown up as a tomboy, had this side. Perhaps many things did change in the eight years that Yuuri lived alone in the forest without his memories as the boy loved by the demons.  

Villagers gathered within the circle of light, bearing food and jugs containing ale for the feast after the wedding. An owl shapeshifter named Leo adjusted the tension of the strings of his lyre. Yuuko snapped her fingers and wildflowers bloomed throughout the entire field.

"Let me check if those lovebirds are ready," Phichit grinned as he dropped the armful of firewood into the pile at the centre of the circle. With a sudden snapping sound he transformed into his raven form and soared towards the direction of the village.

Yuuri caught himself smiling again.

* * *

 

Within the circle of light, there was hardly anyone who didn't cry during the ceremony. Even though they were in the middle of a war, even though not everyone who left for the battle returned, this gathering restored a little hope. Minako gave up an entire world to be with Celestino. In return, demons treated her as one of their own.

Yuuko sang softly in the ancient language of demons to the tune of Leo's lyre.

Minako wore a crown of wildflowers and a long flowing white dress, like a nymph from deep in the mountains. Mari helped weave flowers into Minako's auburn hair. A thin golden spiral wrapped around her arm like a golden serpent. Her eyes met Yuuri's for a split second. Yuuri nodded in reassurance and smiled. He knew she was a little nervous. The demons promise ceremony was neither for the faint of heart nor for the outsiders.

She held Celestino's hand the entire time. Slowly, illuminated by a circle of lanterns floating in midair they walked towards the fire. The crowd, mesmerized by her beauty held their breaths.

They reached the fire at the centre of the circle and paused. Minako unclasped the blue stone she wore around her neck. After exchanging a private smile with the tall demon with blue-grey eyes, she dropped the stone into the fire. In her world, when two people promise themselves to each other they exchange rings. In the demon world they exchange Firestones. They look like ordinary pebbles that can be found at the bottom of the sacred lake, but once they are retrieved they transform into the reflection of their owner's soul.

As soon as Minako's Firestone touched the flames, the crackling sound of the fire wood intensified and the tongues of the flame soared towards the sky until they were taller than two people's height. Minako' eyes widened as Celestino wrapped an arm around her. She never witnessed a wedding in the demon's world before.

The crowd around them whistled and cheered, some cried, including Nishigori, who was silently wiping his tears.

Suddenly the sound of wingbeats joined the music, Yuuri gazed up with the corner of his lips curling towards the sky. He stood up and left the circle of lanterns to greet the majestic demon before him. "Hi, Nox," affectionately he stroked her forehead. Nox was no longer a small serpent that encircled Yuuri's arm wherever he went. She had gotten...bigger. Yuuri met her when he woke up alone in the forest without memories when he was ten years old. She guarded him ever since he first woke up surrounded by smaller demons in the forest, and never left his side since. Celestino told Yuuri she was one of the Ancients who do not have a human form. Most of the Ancients had been slaughtered by the mages already, the few remaining disappeared even from the world of the demons. Nox folded her wings and curled up on the ground like a small mountain next to Yuuri. Unlike the stories of dragon riders popular in the capital, no demon would ever dream of riding Nox like the way mages rode horses. Nox rested her snout on Yuuri's shoulder, he felt the wave of heat from her nostrils. He didn't mind, because he was untouchable by fire. Yuuri shifted his gaze back to the centre of the circle.

Celestino wore a royal blue tunic down to the ground with golden threads woven within. His smile widened as he dropped Minako's Firestone into the fire next. Violet flames erupted ten feet above them, illuminating the surface of the lake. He squeezed her hand as the crowd cheered.

Yuuri heard Phichit sniffle next to him.

Hand in hand, the mage who left her world behind and the demon general walked into the fire.

The demons stood up in unison and waited for them on the other side, some shapeshifters remained in their animal form, others in their demi form like Yuuri and Phichit.

Celestino and Minako re-emerged from the fire. Minako's hair flew behind her in a auburn waves, with a hint of blush and an exhilarated expression she broke into the most beautiful smile Yuuri had ever seen. Surrounded by their people, amidst the feather and claws, they were bound to each other for this lifetime and the next.

For a few brief hours, they had forgotten that they were in the middle of a war, and their songs were forbidden.

* * *

After the music dissipated and the demons retreated back to their dwellings. Yuuri stood by the lake alone, he couldn't stop his heart from pounding.  _Victor, I am finally going to see you again_. He clutched his dark blue tunic with his hand at the place next to his heart. He couldn't fall asleep at all.

Then he took off all of his clothes and stepped forwards into the cold water sending ripples through the reflection of the constellations above. Even the cold could not calm the rhythm of his beating heart.

Yuuri held his breath and dove into the blackness of the water below. His demon visions could make out the golden blur of the moon in the sky from underneath the surface.

Yuuri swam deeper, towards the bottom of the lake. His fingertips brushed the soft sand below. He exhaled, letting a few air bubbles escape from his lips and his nose. His fingertips brushed against the soft slippery surface of the plants below. Running his palm against the darkness he closed his fingers around a small, smooth piece of stone, small yet heavy at same time. He opened his hand in the cold darkness.  _This is the one._

Yuuri made a fist, he thought of Victor, he poured all of his powers into the stone. Bubbles rose towards the dim starlight above as the centre of his palm glowed sending rays of orange illuminating the fish around him. When he opened his palm again the once unremarkable grey pebble was now a piece of translucent sapphire with thin jagged lines of crimson interlaced within. With a small smile, Yuuri ascended back towards the world above, his powers humming through his veins.

Yuuri stood naked in the dark, the cold water at his waist, his own Firestone glistened on his palm.

The night was silent except for the crickets and the wildness of his beating heart.

* * *

Yuuri mounted his horse at the first hint of dawn and left the secret village of the demons. Nox insisted on following him, casting an enormous magnificent shadow next to him on the ground. Yuuri couldn't wait anymore. He wore his light black armour and usual black cloak with a hood trailing behind him. His Firestone tucked inside his pocket next to his heart. The water from the sacred lake cleansed every inch of his body the night before.

He was ready.

Yuuri rode towards the place where they first met. He hasn't been there for the past six years. Every year on the day they promised to meet Yuuri felt completely destroyed from the inside, he couldn't breathe or move. Minako thought he was sick and insisted on him to be seen by the elderly healer. He knew the only way he could protect Victor from his kind was to vanish from his life without a trace. His family would surely kill him. Victor was powerful, but even the best swordsman in the entire kingdom could not defeat an entire army of demons. Victor didn't have any hint of magic back then .Yuuri shuddered as he thought about his sister entrapping Victor in the illusion of his own worst nightmares, and Celestino's ice sword piercing through his heart until his fingertips turned cold.

He let himself be captured by the mages because of that split second when he saw Victor's face. He couldn't stay away anymore. Yuuri had never forgotten, their conversations, the meals they shared together, the way Victor's body felt pressed against his. He was used to being shunned by the humans who lived nearby, they threw rocks at him and called him 'demon child'. Victor was the first person who ever stood up for him. He taught him how to ride a horse and how to fight. Yuuri could never forget that day when Victor whisked him away from the villagers trying to burn him accusing him for the brutal murder he never committed. He could still picture that day flash before his mind. He was tied to the stake and they unveiled the grotesque and mutilated body before him. Its eyes were missing, so were his heart and lungs. Bodies like this one had been turning up all over the kingdom, fanning the flames of war. This gave one more reason for the capital to blame the atrocities on the demon kind.

He leapt off his horse and the trees on either side of him begun to clear leaving spots of sunlight on the ground. His heart accelerated, the knot on his stomach intensified. Nox's large black shadow glided forwards past the cliffs. Yuuri guessed she went to visit the cave over the cliffs where she and Yuuri used to live, back when she was only the size of a serpent.

He walked into the clearing on top of the mountain, the turquoise lake glowed like a jewel. He squinted his dark red eyes as his gaze scanned the horizon for the tree they promised to meet beneath. His heart almost leapt out of his chest when he saw the tall silver haired figure sitting with his back against their tree. Victor didn't look like a Nikiforov mage in their regal crimson attire. He wore a simple grey travel cloak clasped at the front with a button. Underneath he wore a plain white tunic without his armour. His faithful sword tucked at the side of his brown riding pants and his boots past his knees. He looked...free. The only part of him that still connected him to the Nikoiforov mages was his crimson gloves.

Yuuri watched his aquamarine eyes lit up as Yuuri begun to hasten his step and ran towards him.

Without words, Victor opened his arms.

Yuuri pressed his head agains Victor's chest, inhaling his familiar fresh scent like the pine forest after the rain. His eyes paused at Victor's bruise beneath his collarbone shown through his tunic. Yuuri pulled back, "what happened?" He wanted to stroke that place with his fingers but he had to stop himself because their powers were meant to destroy each other, because anywhere they touched they burnt.

"Because of you of course," Victor tapped the tip of his nose with one finger covered by his crimson gloves.

"What did I do?" Yuuri pouted but in his mind he already put the picture together. Victor must have shot his own power through the side of his chest to make the scene convincing like how Yuuri attacked him before he escaped.

"Where shall I begin?" Victor pulled him close again and interlaced Yuuri's fingers between his.

Yuuri laughed while the side of his face was still pressed against Victor's firm chest.

"You cut your hair," Yuuri suddenly remembered when he used to lie naked and tangled in Victor's long silver locks, he blushed a little and avoided Victor's gaze.

"Yuuri," Victor squeezed his fingers tightly, "It's been six years." His face serious once again as Yuuri's laughter faded.

"I know, a _long_  six years," Yuuri gazed at him with his crimson eyes through his long eyelashes, he squeezed Victor's hands back. He led Victor towards the tree and touched its dark bark. The tree overlooking the lake remained the same. Its foliage creating an umbrella. Yuuri was surprised that it wasn't struck by lightning because it was tallest object standing on top of this mountain, "I owe you answers, I know. It's going to take some time."

"I'm listening," Victor still wore his serious face.

They sat down and leaned against the thick trunk of the tree. Yuuri's left hand was still interlaced within Victor's right, as if Victor was afraid to let go. Yuuri saw through Victor's fear that if he did let go Yuuri might vanish into the thin air forever again. He pulled Victor's hand closer and kissed the back of his glove. He told Victor everything. He told him that he was not just any demon but the last prince of the demon kind. He told him about the day that his powers awakened, along with the return of his memories. His voice quivered a little when he told him the first thing he remembered was his parents being executed by the blue flames of the Nikiforov mages fourteen years ago, and Minako wrapping the chain around his neck that bound his powers and his memories while escaping deeper into the forest.

Victor pulled Yuuri's closer until Yuuri's head rested on his shoulders. He stroked his dark hair.

"My parents went to the capital for a peace treaty," Yuuri bit his lips, "but they were accused of killing the Queen and Princess Ariana in cold blood."

The King hated demons ever since that day. Victor told him their version of the same story. Victor's father and more than enough nobles were also at the banquet and witnessed everything. The demon queen and king were crouching over the corpses of the mage Princess and the Queen, with blood trailing from the front of their formal attire and from their lips. Behind them the guards were all dead in a pile of broken limbs and necks in the wrong angle. The nobles screamed as they watched as Yuuri's parents begun to gnaw at the bodies with their own eyes. By the time the King and the Nikiforov mages arrived, the bodies of his beloved wife and daughter were no longer recognizable. Their eyes, heart and lungs were missing, and parts of their ribcages pierced through remains of their dresses drenched with coagulated blood.

"My parents would never..." Yuuri's eyes squeezed tightly shut. He was the prince who the demons believed would bring their kind justice. He couldn't show any sign of vulnerability so he put up a confident and unfazed wall around him. But before Victor, he tore everything down.

Victor saw his pained look, he cupped Yuuri's face in both of his hands, "Yuuri, look at me."

The demon prince obeyed.

"I refuse to believe that the people who raised you could commit such crimes, Yuuri," his blue-green eyes narrowed as it locked with Yuuri's dark red ones.

Yuuri nodded as warmth from the pit of his stomach and from Victor's hands on his face spread through his entire body. He wanted to kiss him more than ever. He would willingly put on demon manacles for him, even though they were the ugly symbols of the enslavement of his kind. If that meant he would be able to be with Victor again, like when they were together six years ago, he could toss aside all of his pride, he didn't care, "thank you..." Yuuri whispered back.

"Then the question is _who_ or  _what_  killed the Princess and the Queen..." Victor held one of his fingers to his lips. He had no answers. Since that incident fourteen years ago, all of the blame were pitted against the demons. More and more bodies, violated in the same manner turned up all over the Kingdom. The King declared war against the demons and decreed that demons shall be freely slaughtered and enslaved. Victor shuddered.

"There were bodies of demons too, killed in the same manner, Victor," Yuuri turned to face him, "we have been investigating too, but without a clear answer." He sent Phichit and Leo to observe the battlefield afterwards. Phichit flew over countless circles over the resting place of demons and mages alike on the battlefield where fresh warm blood rained upon the earth hours ago during the day. Leo did the same in his tawny owl form at night. There was nothing. Phichit would later find bodies in nearby forests, mutilated in the same manner, as if someone or something was conducting a sickening ritual robbing dead bodies of their eyes and their hearts.

They didn't know who or what the enemy was, but they both knew without speaking, that undoubtedly, their enemies were powerful, cunning and perhaps closer to both of them that they imagined.

"Let's find them Yuuri," determination shone through Victor's blue-green eyes, "I want to set things right, and to clear your parents' names." Victor stood up and stretched out a gloved hand.

Yuuri held it as Victor pulled him up until they were face to face again, "let's find the truth." They shook hands, not as Yuuri and Victor but as the heir of the Nikiforov mages and the demon prince.

* * *

They lost track of time.

After all, six years worth of time for both of them meant countless things to say.

The sun was beginning to disappear beneath the horizon.

Yuuri gazed up at Victor's face. He could tell, Victor was restless. Yuuri spent the entire day suppressing his own urges as well.

Victor must have felt the same way.

Finally Victor begun, "Yuuri, show me your true form," his voice ended in a whisper. There was disbelief still in his voice because Yuuri came back to him like he never left in the first place.

Yuuri nodded and bit his lip, with a hint of a smile he said as he lifted his head from Victor's lap, "don't take your eyes off me." He stood up, and pulled the black string holding his black traveling cloak together and let it collect on the ground like a dark pool. Then he unraveled the hinges of his light black armour and set his dark breastplates onto the grass against the tree.

"Yuri what are you doing?" Victor was puzzled for a split second.

"You want me to stop?"

"No-"

Yuuri freed the button at his collar and lifted his black robes, revealing his pale skin, a stark contrast against the bark of their tree. Yuuri was slow and deliberate as he stripped for Victor. His body tingled as each piece of his clothes brushed past his bare skin knowing that Victor couldn't take his eyes off him.

"You'll see," then with a small knowing smile Yuri slowly closed his eyes.

Victor's eyes widened as he watched majestic leathery wings spread from Yuuri's back. His face changed too, his ears became more pointed, his canines grew slightly sharper. In this form Yuuri was taller than he was. For Victor to gaze up to meet Yuri's eyes felt foreign, he was at a loss for words.

Yuuri wondered what it would be like to make love to him in this form. All of his senses were sharper ten fold. He could smell Victor's scent that he craved for, hear the sound of the wind rustling through his soft silver locks. Both of them could suppress their powers with their self control. But the way they wanted each other though, was beyond self control.

Yuuri took one of Victor's gloved hands and pressed it against his bare chest over his racing heart. Between them there were no walls. He didn't need words anymore to tell him those three:  _I am yours._

Yuuri then guided his hand towards his face. Victor caressed his outline, soft and kind, yet strong and angular at the same time. He touched the fading raw place on Yuuri's cheek where their bare skin met three days ago. Victor had a matching burn on his hand. Yuri's once innocent eyes was replaced with sheer determination and strength, yet amidst that power his kindness remained. Yuuri closed his eyes and kissed every inch of his hand and his fingertips through his dark crimson glove, as if he was the most precious thing in the entire world.

Heat rushed through Victor's face as he felt the pressure of Yuuri lips as he put one of his fingers into his mouth.

Victor couldn't breathe anymore, suddenly he slid his other hand over Yuuri's chest, encircled his nipple with just enough force sending shivers of pleasure down Yuuri's spine. Then his hand travelled down the lean muscles of Yuuri's stomach and past his waist. Victor leaned forwards as Yuuri took a few steps back until his bare back was pressed against the tree. This was the same place Victor stood when his powers had awoken in his moment of weakness and despair when Yuri didn't come. This was the same place he cut off his long hair with his sword as a symbol of the awakening of his power. That was the moment Victor was no longer the black sheep of his family, born with the potent magic running through his veins, yet without a single hint of power. This was the same tree where Victor sat on the ground and cried like a child when Yuri broke his promise.

Victor felt Yuuri's body react flush to his thigh. He clung to Yuuri until the right side of his chest where he shot a surge of his own power through throbbed, until their heartbeats synced. Only few thin layers of fabric separated them. He wished they weren't there at all.

He slid his gloved hand further down on Yuuri's waist, through the loose fabric. Victor hesitated for a brief second, finally he curled his gloved fingers around the place nobody but him had been.

"Victor, please...don't stop..." Yuuri begged him to continue. His face was red, his hair now pushed back, his wings wrapped around Victor creating a world where only the two of them belonged. Yuri was careful not to make contact with him skin to skin. His breaths sped up with Victor's movements. A tightness built up inside his chest.

They were both powerful in their own rights.

The heir to the Nikiforov mages and the demon prince.

They were equals.

But before each other they were nothing.

Yuuri's suddenly clawed at the rough bark of the tree as Victor begun to use his other hand. Yuuri wished he could feel the shape of more than Victor's fingers. He squeezed his eyes tight and let him in. This was as close as they could be. He was greedy. He wanted all of him. His body remembered their first time. He remembered those sleepless nights when he hugged himself, pretending Victor was there, pretending they were close again. And those nights where he could only use his own hand imagining it was Victor's instead. He had to clamp on his lips with his palm so nobody could hear the sounds he made. Victor had awoken a side of him that only he alone could satisfy.

Yuuri arched his back as he felt the intense pressure impatiently awaiting. Victor's gaze was locked with his the entire time. Before Victor he no longer had anything to hide. He showed Victor everything. Like when they first met he was fifteen, he put his hand into the fire and showed him his secret: he was untouchable by flames before his own memories awakened. He showed him the hidden path of the mountain goblins that led to their mines filled with diamonds in the rough. He showed him all of himself, body and soul.

Victor knew the exact movement, speed and expression to drive Yuuri over the edge. Right before Yuuri surrendered into the bliss, Victor read his body language and he sunk down onto his knees, he leaned closer to Yuuri's waist until Yuuri felt the warmth of his blush. Victor closed eyes for a split second and parted his lips as Yuuri let go.

Yuuri groaned, his heart wild, as he watched Victor's throat move and listened to him swallow. He wasn't expecting the most powerful swordsman in this entire kingdom to submit to him like this. He didn't feel dirty at all, but he felt powerful, wanted, and...complete. He wanted to kiss Victor's lips until they are swollen, and leave his mark on Victor's soft throat claiming him to be his alone and for the world to see. But he didn't want to put Victor through any more pain. 

Victor wiped the rest of him dripping from the corner of his lip then from his cheek. Yuuri's face reddened as his gaze shifted towards the crystalline lake painted orange by the setting sun as Victor licked his gloves.

"I'm sorry if that came as a surprise," Victor was still on his knees, his aquamarine eyes shining making the most beautiful stone of of the mountain goblins pale in comparison, "I missed you, so fucking much and I...couldn't help myself." A hint of shyness shone through his cheeks.

Yuuri heard the rapid beats of his own heart pulsating in his ears, "Victor..." he joined him on his knees until their eyes were on the same level. Yuuri met him exactly where he was. Yuuri shook his head. 

They kneeled before each other in the sunset, unsure of how much time passed. They didn't care about the small rocks biting into their knees. They wished time would stop.

"I'm sorry, I should have asked you first, instead I was a coward...I thought leaving you behind to protect you from my kind was easier than facing the truth," Yuuri buried his face into the fabric against Victor's chest, he folded his wings and returned to his demi form. His hands tugged at the back of Victor's grey traveling cloak until it was taut.

"I am just as guilty for the same thing," Victor's familiar shape pressed against his, "I am sorry that I said those things back in the prison."

"So that makes us even," a small smile crept onto Yuri's face, as he pulled back.

Victor watched him, mesmerized by the gorgeous creature before him as dusk falls upon them, "that makes us even." He echoed.

"No more secrets?" Yuri squeezed his shoulders.

Victor nodded, as a few silver locks fell before his eyes. He watched the corner of Yuuri's lips curl up into a private smile meant for him alone.

Suddenly Yuuri pushed him backwards. From Victor's expression Yuuri knew he wasn't expecting this act of boldness or to be pinned to the ground.

"Victor, I can't wait anymore," Yuri leaned closer into an almost kiss and he whispered. He watched Victor's eyes widen with surprise followed by a breathtaking smile that he only had dreamt of for the past six years. Yuuri tugged at his buttons revealing the sliver of his bare chest, then he slid down Victor's body, his breaths hot against Victor's skin.

Victor surrendered.

Yuuri ripped off his gloves with his teeth and slid is own hands into them.

Millions of stars shone brightly above them in a milky band across the deep velvet sky.

Despite who they were, despite their places in the world, despite the entire universe declaring their love as forbidden, they never lost faith.

They held each other as if not a day had passed since they parted six years ago.

They made a mess of Victor's gloves.

Yuuri thought of his Firestone inside his pocket. _Some day, Victor, I'll walk you through the fire._

Tonight belonged to two of them alone.

The rest of the world could burn.

* * *

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

**Many thanks to my beta reader[Rimfrost](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Rimfrost)! **

Work was going crazy lately. Whenever I think I can't do something, I think back to Yuri's story, and I feel uplifted. Maybe this sounds completely ridiculous, maybe to some of you this makes perfect sense...Yuri on ice inspired me in so many ways. Like bringing me back to writing again, my childhood dream was to become a writer. I have always had a creative side that I try to connect with & took creative writing back in university. One thing led to another, I ended up with the letters MD after my name. I am grateful that I found the inspiration again to keep on writing. I will write an original some day. We only live once, right?

A clarification: demons include shapeshifters, Yuri is not one of them so he does not have an animal form. Phichit and Otabek are shapeshifters, feel free to guess what Otabek turns into (He's magnificent & not a tiger...). I also changed the spelling of Yuri's name. 

xoxo

Antares


	6. When All Hope is Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Artwork Credit (posted with permission, because she is amazing!):[@trebolqueen](https://tmblr.co/mLrUjxd3m1GTrHbDwLA_OTg) / [Facebook](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2FTr%25C3%25A9bol_queen-1504320742967560%2F&t=MGY1NGE5MDc3M2EzMmY5MDc5ODgyODg1ZWNmY2M4YTQ0YWZmNTI5ZCxPbldUNnZTMA%3D%3D&b=t%3AAAVw-FY46-Cftz9Ako92WQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fantarespromise.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F173645707251%2Fantarespromise-the-boy-loved-by-demons-for-my&m=1) **

"Victor, I have never seen you this happy in a long time," Chris pulled open the wooden door to his bedchamber. Being a renowned courtesan in this kingdom where no one ordinary could afford a night with him, Chris's room was exquisite. He could seduce anyone...with the exception of Victor.

Victor stopped trying to wipe the smile off his face. He knew Chris could read him. In fact, Chris could read anyone with those timeless golden eyes. He was one person in the kingdom, aside from Yura and his grandfather, that Victor confided in. Victor asked his friend many times to join him in the King's court, but Chris refused. Chris had more than enough gold to lasts few lifetimes, but he treasured secrets more.

Victor then noticed a slender girl inside Chris's chamber, her hair bright red and down to her chin, and her eyes the colour of bellflowers. She wore a thin gossamer veil and a delicate embroidered white top, revealing enough to make Victor blush and avert his gaze. Her hips swung as she walked. Her dignity and poise made mere beauty seem cheap.

Victor frowned when he glanced at the demon manacles around her wrists, and he remembered where he last saw her. She was the demon that Chris rescued from the handlers from the market.

"Those demon manacles are fake," Chris read his troubled expression like usual, "you remember Mila, I believe."

Victor nodded and smiled, his hand shifted from hilt of his sword to the space before her for a second. Then he remembered each time he touched Yuuri's skin, he burnt. He retracted his hand because he wasn't wearing gloves, "Victor Nikiforov."

He saw her bright eyes narrowing after hearing his last name but then Chris flashed her a smile that could turn stop wars, her expression softened, "hi Victor."

Sensing the tension in the air Chris rested a hand on Mila's shoulder, "he's with us."

Then the place between her brows finally relaxed, "I will leave you two then, the show is about to begin." She glided soundlessly towards the door as she put on a pair of intricate silver earrings.

"Mila's a feisty one. She refused to leave this place," Chris sunk into his velvet recliner filled with soft cushions and crossed his legs, "but she sure as hell can dance." Chris poured wine into two goblets and handed one to Victor, "and no, she does not keep my bed warm at night...well that's not completely true either," Chris tipped the cup back and sipped, "she had nightmares from the slave handlers, things they did to her. She didn't want to be alone in the dark, so I said, there's plenty of space." His four poster bed was massive, with dark violet drapes extending down from the high ceiling, "I never laid a finger on her."

Victor set his sword aside and accepted the goblet from his friend. He sighed. He shudder as he tried to what kind of animosity they committed towards her because of her undeniable beauty.

Chris uncrossed his legs, "Victor, I have something to tell you." He set the delicate silver goblet down, leaned his chin against his own interlaced fingers, "even though I wasn't suppose to meddle...I have been setting demons to the North."

Victor also put his goblet down and sat a little straighter.  _The North_ , he recalled the humble castle at the base of the snow covered peaks. That was the last place that demons could walk free. He remembered travelling on a diplomatic mission accompanying the king in that mysterious yet sacred land. The king of the North had kind eyes. On top of those mountains wingbeats of the angels could be heard. Though small, no neighbouring kingdom would dare dream to invade because of the invisible angels watching over them. "Why didn't you tell me earlier? I would have helped -"

"Victor  _Nikiforov_ ," Chris emphasized his last word, "that's why..."

Victor's heart raced, he would do anything for Yuuri.  _I wish I was born under any other name._  He imagined leaving the capital filled with nobles that smile to each other one day and poisoned each other's drinks the next. He imagined throwing his family crest of the white wolf pinned onto his chest into the lake and watching it disappear. He imagined walking away with Yuuri from this war, from the capital and living in a place where no one could find them. But then the image of Yura flashed before he realized he had people of his own to protect. He thought of the young mages training under the Nikiforov name under the leadership of his father, who only spoke with him when he needed Victor's blood every few months at a time. He was the sole heir to the Nikiforov name. He didn't want to know the truth behind the cold sinister mask his father wore. He could leave Yura and those brilliant young mages that travelled from every corner of the kingdom to study under the Nikiforov name in the hands of his father.

* * *

They lost track of how much time had passed. Mila slid the door open, her bright red hair still wet from the bath. She filled the room with the aroma of roses.

"How was the performance?" Chris stood up facing the beautiful demon he saved. He tucked a strand of her bright red hair behind her pointed ear with affection.

Mila broke into a grin, "I am one of the best dancers of my kind...if only I could use my powers and fire..."

Chris laughed, "you are going to have to show me one day."

Victor was surprised at the ease and lightness in her voice when she was around Chris. He remembered two weeks prior when he was about to leave with the king and Yura to go on a hunt and he watched Chris whisk her away from the lecherous gaze of the slave handlers. The thought of Chris having a lover seemed almost impossible...He was a courtesan who  _enjoyed_  his work.

Victor stood up and picked up his sword.

Chris met him at the doorway with a serious expression on his face all of a sudden, "now that you know one of my secrets, let me ask you this, what would you give for demons to be free again?"

He thought of Yuuri's fiery eyes filled with strength and determination. He thought of the last time they were together, under the stars with no walls between them. He imagined the world that Yuuri dreamt of where demons were free and their songs no longer forbidden. He watched Mila tilting her chin up facing him, watching his every expression.

Victor pressed his lips together, "anything."

Chris turned to him and smiled.

* * *

"Grandpa!" Yura, unable to contain his excitement, leapt up into the arms of the old man, whose lower back creaked. Yura pulled on the reins of time with his mind to break his grandfather's fall, "sorry!" He scratched his head as his grandfather laid on his side on the grass to recover.

His grandfather chuckled, "looks like old age is catching up with me."

Victor and Otabek emerged from the forest shortly thereafter. Victor was used to the stoic expression and the few words from the demon next to him. Three years passed since his father gave Otabek as a present to Yura. Since then there were few times where one of them was seen without the other.

Nikolai Plisetsky greeted Otabek in the language of the demons.

Otabek's face lit up as he acknowledged Yura's grandfather in the same tongue.

"I know how to say that too!" Yura then muttered a string of words that remotely resembled the ancient language, leaving both his grandfather and Otabek looking puzzled.

Though stoic, Otabek covering his mouth because he could no longer contain his amusement.

"Hey!" Yura tried to elbow his demon companion in the ribs, but Otabek dodged just in time.

Out of the corner of Victor's eyes, he watched the guards sent by the king to keep an eye on the old man. He couldn't help but notice the contrast between the once feared general to the loving grandfather who was fascinated by the world of the demons and enjoyed cooking for his grandson. Victor was happy for him.

"It's a shame we couldn't celebrate your coming of age ceremony, Otabek," Yura's grandfather patted down the picnic blanket on the grass, "because of those cursed things around your wrists."

Otabek tossed Yura a dark look, while Yura stuck out his tongue. Some things never change.

But over the past three years, Victor could tell that Yura's hostility towards the dark haired demon softened. None of the young mages who used to bully Yura dared to touch him or call him the 'bastard child', because of Otabek's brooding presence. He knew despite the teenage angst, Yura wasn't cruel.

The truth is he hasn't invoked the power of the demon manacles for almost three years. Yura was arrogant, selfish, powerful, and aloof. He didn't have any friends his age, but somehow he grudgingly accepted Otabek's presence.

Most shapeshifters changed into their true form during their teenage years. And to quench the pain of the transformation they found themselves drawn to the sacred lakes. Victor wondered what Otabek's true form was. He had to pull his mind back from picturing when Yuuri removed his clothes to make room for his wings.

"Why are you staring into space, Victor, go get the stew, I am hungry." Yura crossed his arms as he leaned against the tree.

Victor touched his own cheek with the back one hand, it felt warm. He was grateful to be able to walk away.  _Victor Nikiforov, what the fuck, gather yourself..._

The stew was delicious, none of the food in the palace could compare to the way Yura's grandfather's cooking.

They listened to Otabek and Yura's grandfather's stories about the legends of the demon kind, and of the lullaby that roughly translates to "demon song" that every mother in the demon world knew. Being caught singing that song meant execution in the Kingdom, Victor was well aware, but his burning desire to learn all of its words grew stronger.

"I have been to a wedding between two demons during my travels," Yura's grandfather dipped the last piece of bread into the final few drops of the stew, "the fire ceremony was unbelievable..."

Victor's heart leapt his throat because he wasn't sure when he would have another chance to ask, "say Otabek, how do demons make those kind of promises."

Beka responded in the fewest number of words as usual, "the Firestones."

"What are Firestones?" Yura leaned forwards with his chin resting against the back of his hand.

"They are pebbles at the bottom of the sacred lakes," Otabek glanced into the distance.

"If I recall correctly, the legends say demons could infuse part of their soul into the Firestone. During the ceremony, two stones are thrown into the fire symbolizing the union of two spirits for this lifetime and next. Then the promised ones walk through the fire together." The old man finished, "isn't that something?"

"Whatever," Yura shrugged and raised an eyebrow.

* * *

"Beka, go away," Yura waved his hand, after they finished eating.

The dark haired demon gave him a look that said,  _gladly._

"Victor, I need to talk to you." Yura tugged onto the corner of Victor's loose white tunic and dragged him deeper into the forest.

Despite Victor found his powers and therefore allowed to wear the red robes of the Nikiforov clan, he decided to wear white sometimes in spite of his father. He wasn't allowed to cut his hair before his magic manifested either. Curiosity grew from within him. Yura doesn't often carry this matter-of-fact look. He meant business.

Finally they stood by a creek, every fish, snail and water plants could be seen through its gentle waves.

"Victor, I think it's really fucked up," Yura's breaths sped up, his emerald eyes glistened, "what we are doing to the demons..."

"Listen to me Yura," Victor squeezed his shoulders and leaned closer, "don't let anyone hear you say that."

Instead of his usual sneering response, Yura knew Victor was serious this time. He pursed his lips and nodded.

"I agree," Victor whispered, as a few silvery locks fell before his eyes, "I also want this war to end."

"I-, I'll help, tell me what I need to do," Yura squeezed his fists tight, wind sent his golden strands across his cheek.

Victor nodded at the young prince, "we must not do anything rash, because we must figure out who started this war in the first place and the truth behind the demon king and queen's execution..."  _But the reality is,_  Victor added in dismay,  _we don't even know who the enemy was._  He knew there were more to Yuuri's parents eating the flesh of the Queen and his daughter in cold blood. He shuddered,  _what could possibly control two of the most powerful demons and push them into committing such act of horror?_  He didn't believe for a second Yuuri's parents would do this.

Victor sensed a new determination rising from the sixteen year old mage before him, he could not help but feel a growing wave of pride. Yura was the closest thing to family to him, like a younger brother.

"And Victor," Yura touched his own neck with one hand, "there's one more thing that I need to get off my chest," He sighed, "I...have been thinking of setting Otabek free."

Victor's hand didn't leave his shoulders. He had never seen Yura look like this. Vulnerable was not a word he would use to ever describe the golden haired prodigy and the master of time.

"Every time I think about it, my chest gets tight, like I can't breathe," his emerald eyes downcast, a stark contrast from the red uniform of the Nikiforov mages, "I fucking hate it! If his annoying presence isn't around that I would feel like something is missing...like I am the one that actually wore those damn disgusting demon manacles around my wrists!"

"Yura -"

"Shut up, I am not done, he might kill me right away if I set him free, that's the other piece of it." the tip of his nose turning red, the crystalline liquid whirling within his jewel like eyes, "the really screwed up part is I rather have him kill me than for him to disappear..."

"Otabek would never hurt you, I am certain of it," Victor.  _But I can't promise that he wouldn't leave..._

He wanted to tell Yura that demons and mages could be together, someday... He came close to him about Yuuri, but he held himself back.

They gazed into the clear creek in silence.

"Tell one soul about this, Victor, I will fucking kill you." His regal red robes snapped as he turned around and strutted away as he returned his normal self.

"Yes, your highness," Victor shook his head and sighed, then the corners of his lips curled up.

Yura was growing up before his eyes.

* * *

Another battle ended, this time the demons won. The mages retreated on horseback, leaving bodies littered on the green grass in June staining it dark red and brown. Clouds covered the sky, the only light came from the small sliver of the moon.

Despite the putrid smell of the battleground and the haunting aura of death, a lone figures walked through the field. Her hair was long and dark red in a sideways braid with a few loose strands spilling over her high cheekbones, her eyes were golden. Clad in thin glistening armour over her forest green tunic, Rochelle wore her usual unfazed, fearless expression on her face. Despite being the princess of the Northern kingdom with snow covered mountains, she trekked alone, with only her faithful long sword with an elaborate handle with a single topaz embedded within the same shade as her eyes. She was known for her swordsmanship throughout her kingdom. He father thought she was ready to be married at the age of twenty three one year ago. But she convinced him the way for her to choose a suitor was to defeat her to a duel. Nobles and commoners alike flocked to their kingdom to watch the spectacle and to participate. The preliminary rounds went on for months. At the end, to her father's dismay, Rochelle stood undefeated.

Suddenly she heard stirring and shallow breaths under a dented and abandoned shield. She moved without a sound and with one hand she lifted the broken pane of metal with the Nikiforov family crest of the white wolf on it. Underneath a young shapeshifter no more than twenty years old laid in a pool of his own blood and feathers. He was a peregrine falcon. Rochelle sunk onto one knee.

His face was pale and covered with beads of sweat. She knew, the end was near. His eyes were a few shades darker than hers, they widened with fear and despair. A broken sword pinned him onto the ground. He winced as he clutched his hand against his dark crimson soaked armour.

His face softened as Rochelle gently held his hand. She knelt next to him and begun to sing. He gasped when he recognized the melody.

Demon song, it's a lullaby, in the language of the demons' ancestors. Despite being a mage, she knew all the words to the forbidden song that meant instant death if she was caught singing it in the capital. The gentle words rolled off her tongue like the waves of the river that carried souls to their final resting place.

Slowly the shapeshifter closed his eyes.

Her small kingdom from the northern mountains was one of the last remaining places where demons walked free. In her kingdom above the snow covered peaks beyond the clouds, the ethereal wingbeats of angels could be heard. Rochelle Aurelia grew up in a loving family, in a humble castle at the base of the mountains amidst the meadow painted with wildflowers. She let go of his hand and let it rest on his chest across his heart.

A hint of light touched the eastern horizon. She stalked the battlefield without a sound. She had a feeling that the answer she was looking for was within her grasp. She turned towards the sickening sound of ripping flesh and slowed her pace. She unsheathed her sword with lighting speed and hid sideways behind a pine tree.

That's when she saw the hideous creature gnawing at the eyes of the dead mage on the ground. It was translucent, and hideous, a pair of wings with hardly any feathers left trailed at the wrong angles. The monster would be easily missed, except for under the light from the first hint of dawn.

Rochelle's stomach twisted into a tight knot as she watched it crawl on all fours towards the dead mage's heart and sunk its teeth in. Its face hardly resembled human anymore, its eyes hollow. The cheeks of the creature sunken, on its head a few strands of hair remained. She shuddered, because she always had the feeling that she didn't want to know the answer to the brutal murders of demons and mages alike. She finally saw through the truth. She cursed her powers which was both a gift and a curse.

Rochelle was born with the powers to see angels.

This creature was nothing compared to the angels she saw from the distance on top of the snow covered peaks. The angels watched over her kingdom since the beginning of time were beautiful, majestic, and kind. They do not interact with humans other than with the few with the gift to see them only with the first light of dawn. The only few who knew of her powers were within her family.

With a whirl of her green travelling robes, she couldn't watch any longer, because the creature begun to bit through the mage's armour and then the sound of crunching ribs reverberated through the empty meadow filled with death.

* * *

Rochelle waited at the edge of the small town as promised. She couldn't help but grin as a horse drawn carriage approached despite her discovery a few hours ago.

"Chris!" Rochelle's smile widened as her friend pulled back the dark violet curtain of the carriage.

Chris pulled his friend into a tight embrace as soon as he exited the carriage. He met Rochelle years ago disguised as a fabric merchant in her kingdom. He wore the same disguise today, of deep wine coloured travelling cloak without the elaborate embroidery.

"What brought you here?" Rochelle tucked the stray strand of her dark red hair behind her ear.

"Curiosity," Chris' cloak fluttered in the wind.

"Of course, you are not known as the Secret Keeper for nothing."

"Who are you looking for this time?"

"A demon by the name of Katsuki Yuuri."

* * *

"Chris,  _what_  are you doing?" Mila turned to Chris from behind her deep blue hood hiding her pointed ears.

"Watch this," Chris flashed a mischievous smile. He pulled the violet curtain back as their carriage glided along the forest path. Mila gasped he watched figures begun to form spawning from the dirt. They became more and more human like, until they transformed into a sword welding band of brutes.

Exasperated, Mila didn't understand the reason Chris created such illusion. There were more than ten of them surrounding their horse drawn carriage with fabric piled at the back. The bandits clad in rough clothes and armed with axe and blades begun charging towards them. Mila suddenly stood up, the fake demon manacles she wore around her wrist glistened from the dull light inside the carriage.

This was too real.

Their horse let out a startled sound. Moments before the first bandit approached the door of the carriage with a battle cry, Mila saw a flash of black and silver followed by a clanking sound followed by the bandit's sword falling onto the ground. Her jaw dropped as she stared at the figure who put himself between her and danger. He had pointed ears, dark red eyes, he wore light black armour. She watched the other bandits close in from every corner, and grasped onto Chris's arm reflexively.

The demon before them, with swift and certain steps knocked the swords and clubs out of the bandits hands.

He didn't kill any of them.

Chris watched with an amused look on his face, "he even fights like him..." he muttered under his breath.

The leader of the bandits, with the wide hairy chest and one of his front teeth missing, screamed, "retreat!", as the hoard followed, sending dirt behind their feet as they disappeared into the forest.

Once again, the serene scene of the forest path returned to its equilibrium.

Chris opened the door of his carriage and extended a hand towards the demon who saved them with a gracious smile, "I don't know how to thank you."

The dark haired demon sheathed his sword and shook his hand, still panting a little from the recent battle, "no need to thank me." His voice matched the kindness from the dark crimson eyes. "Please be careful around these parts." A wave of wind ruffled his messy black hair.

"I am only a humble merchant without a large fortune," Chris rummaged through his robes and opened his palm again revealing a dull silver coin that was not the same as any currency in this kingdom, "You saved our lives and I want you to have this." The dying sun painted everything orange, including the dull shimmer of the coin weathered by time.

Yuuri's lips curled up, "really, I don't need any payment, I am glad you are safe."

"I insist, a merchant always pays his debts," Chris's timeless golden eyes bright.

At last, Yuuri reluctantly accepted the gift.

Chris broke into a brilliant smile, "when all hope is gone, toss this coin into a lake."

 

****

**Author's Note:**

**Artwork Credit (posted with permission, because she is amazing!):[@trebolqueen](https://tmblr.co/mLrUjxd3m1GTrHbDwLA_OTg) / [Facebook](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2FTr%25C3%25A9bol_queen-1504320742967560%2F&t=MGY1NGE5MDc3M2EzMmY5MDc5ODgyODg1ZWNmY2M4YTQ0YWZmNTI5ZCxPbldUNnZTMA%3D%3D&b=t%3AAAVw-FY46-Cftz9Ako92WQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fantarespromise.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F173645707251%2Fantarespromise-the-boy-loved-by-demons-for-my&m=1) **

Sorry about the late update, work was crazy for the past month. I am from the medical world (starting in my final year of residency) & I look forward to become a real person one year from now :). From here on I will return to my regular update schedule average 1.5 weeks between chapters.

Some of you asked why when Yuuri and Victor touched each other they burnt, I am actually going to keep that a secret for a bit longer.

I love Rochelle btw ("kickass OC" tag).

Chris's identity is a twist, feel free to take some guesses.

The contents of the next chapter will be shocking...consider this one the calm before the storm.

Let me know your thoughts!

xoxo

-Antares

This story will get complicated, here's character guide:

Yuuri Katsuki: the last demon prince.

Minako Okukawa: once a Nikiforov mage (which is umbrella term for any mages trained by the Nikiforov family), she fell in love with a demon named Celestino and left her world behind. Yuuri's teacher and the closest thing to family to him aside from his sister.

Victor Nikiforov: the heir to the Nikiforov mages. His father trains them to fight for the king. He was also know as the King's right hand, possibly the best swordsman in the kingdom

Yuri Plisetsky (Yura): the King's nephew, his mother was the king's sister and the identity of his father is a mystery. He is considered the next in line for the throne because the king's wife and daughter was brutally murdered by Yuuri's parents (or so that's what it seemed)

Nicholai Plisetsky: Yura's grandfather: under house arrest because he was being accused by the king for being a 'demon loving lunatic'

Otabek Altin: the shapeshifter slave given to Yura as a gift by Victor's father, his powers are bound by demon manacles.

Christopher Giacometti: a mysterious courtesan in the Kingdom & Victor's friend. Also known as the secret keeper. He travels sometimes disguised as a merchant for months at a time.

Mila Babicheva: the demon Chris set free from the slave handlers

Rochelle Aurelia: (aka my "kickass OC" tag) princess of the Northern Kingdom: the last place demons could walk free. Her skills with the swords unparalleled.

* * *

 


	7. Truce

Victor never knew his father. He used to feel a wave of envy, watching his father laugh and joke with the young Nikiforov Mages from every part of the kingdom training under his family name. He imagined as a child, what if he had powers, maybe his father would smile and place his warm hands on his back. The resemblance between Victor and his father was uncanny. They had silvery locks of the identical shade, the same aquamarine eyes, sharp jaw and narrow nose. They even shared the same name.

For years Victor wasn't allowed to wear the regal red robes and gloves of the Nikiforov Mages because he never showed a hint of powers. Each time he returned home he wore white, symbolizing the unawakened, until most Mages younger than him were red clad. He grew used to the whispers about him in the King's court ridiculing him for the irony of possessing the most potent magical blood in his veins yet not showing any hint of power. He wasn't allowed to cut his hair either for the same reason. Shorter hair was a symbol of power in the Nikiforov tradition. His father's was close to his scalp and neatly trimmed, while for years Victor's hair ended at the small of his back. Until that day in his moment of weakness when he was twenty five, when Yuuri never came as promised, Victor's powers had awoken. He parted with his silver mane with his sword under the same tree where Yuuri never came.

When he turned eleven years old he thought his father was giving him the intricate silver knife as a present. Instead, his father asked if he wanted to be useful to the Nikiforov family, to which he nodded without hesitation. Maybe his father was sorry. His father used it to cut his palm instead, slaughtering the glimmer of hope. Since then the only time they spoke was his father demanding his blood every few months. This became a routine - the only reason Victor returned to his home where the young mages resided during training in the castle with cold white stone walls. Victor didn't care to stay one moment longer.

Nothing changed after Victor connected with his powers. His father didn't acknowledge him. Maybe his father blamed him for his mother's death when she brought him into the world.

He wasn't sure the reason he was summoned today. He left a goblet filled with his blood only a week ago.

His riding boots tapped the ground reverberating from the cold stone walls. He wore white in spite of his father. One of his hands gripped the hilt of his sword. Instead of feeling sorry for himself amidst the whispers of the court about him without powers, he trained with General Plisetsky, Yura's grandfather, in the art of swordsmanship until nobody in this kingdom could defeat him. He became the King's personal guard.

The wooden door with his family crest of the wolf casted in silver creaked open.

His father's office was simple yet grand. He sat behind tall mahogany desk with carvings of wolves and vines around the edges. The older man with sharp blue-green eyes interlaced his fingers while resting his elbows on the table.

"Father," without any expression on his face he nodded at the man who appeared to be an older version of his own reflection.

"Victor, you are getting married in two days." The tone of his father's voice final as the King's decree.

Victor's heart turned cold, like a rock falling into the dark well. He refused to show any trace of weakness. He put on the blank mask identical to the man before him. He excused himself and left the castle that he detested with every corner of his being.

Chris was with a client that night.

* * *

Victor met Rochelle Aurelia for the first time on their wedding day. He couldn't pay attention to even the King's blessings when they exchanged their vows. He glanced at the feast, the nobles, his expression blank.

Victor felt numb. He knew he could not part from the capital. He fantasized about leaving everything behind, the King, his father who didn't give a shit, this cursed city that sold demons into slavery. He wished he wasn't born a Nikiforov more than anything. He wanted to disappear into the forest with Yuuri. But the thought of the young mages trained under someone like his father, Yura, and the flashback where Chris swooping in to rescue Mila from the slave handlers held him back.

Yuuri needed him to find the truth behind his parents' execution that sparked the war between the mages and demons fourteen years ago. As more and more demon slaves poured into the palace wearing manacles and shapeshifters being hunted like animals, Victor felt the balance of power shift. Yura's grandfather was placed under house arrest for speaking up for the demons. The nobles were less than sympathetic. He couldn't walk away from everything, not as the Victor that Yuuri loved.

The high domed ceiling of the castle was embellished by illusion of stars in the night sky to mimic the sky outside. The banquet hall lit by thousands of candles flickering, casting their shadows on the bouquet on every table made of peonies, lilies and yellow roses. The crowd applauded as the rings were exchanged with mechanical motions. Victor, clad in the Nikiforov colors of bright crimson from head to toe gazed at his bride for the first time.

Her dark red hair was braided and tucked into an elegant knot on the side. Her white gown tinted with a blush of dawn trailed behind her on the white marble ground. Fine golden chains weaved through her hair ending in a glistening topaz above her eyes of the same shade.

He took her hand as they walked down the steps from the altar to the middle of the banquet hall. He tried his best to plaster on a fake smile.

"I am aware of my place in the world. Despite my father being a kind man, I know who I promise myself to isn't up to me. But the naive part of me still can dream, right?" She held her hand out to begin their first dance.

He took her hand. He didn't say anything, reflections of candlelight flickered in his ocean colored orbs.  _Why are you telling me this?_

"I want someone who only had eyes for me, Victor. You already found Yuuri, Chris told me. Forgive me for intruding, I have been friends with him for a long time. When all of this is over we can call this off...but all I ask for now is that we pretend for the sake my honor...if you would please..." Rochelle whispered in his ears as he lead her across the dance floor, "I want to set things right for the demon kind as much as you do. I needed a reason to stay in the palace to uncover the truth."

Victor's turquoise eyes widened. "What do you mean," he whispered into her ears as he interlaced his fingers with hers as they encircled each other for the next part of the wedding dance that every mage knew.

"I know what started the war," she whispered, "but to stop it I need your help."

Victor's heart pounded against his chest. Rochelle bowed at him, a few of her dark red ringlets fell in front of her face. He caught glimpses of the way men gazed at her. There was more behind her beauty, behind those golden eyes there were neither fear nor regrets.

She had the eyes of a warrior.

Victor pursed his lips and nodded. One million questions exploded through his mind.  _Maybe she has the answers we have been searching for._

Amidst the dying rhythm of their song and the cheering crowd, for the first time in two days his smile reached his eyes. He met his father's glacial gaze for a split second, his lips curled even higher. _I will be happy, in spite of you, father. At least I will pretend to be for Rochelle's sake._  The older man first broke their eye contact.

* * *

"Mila," Chris turned to face her in his huge four poster bed without touching her, "I wonder if I did the right thing." He sighed.

Since he rescued her from the slave handlers, she feared to be alone in the dark. Because for countless nights, just as she thought she was on her own, the handlers were upon her. They did things to her that sometimes at night she woke up drenched in cold sweat, where the only the she could do was to cling onto Chris's firm shoulders.

"You did your best," her bellflower eyes bright even hidden by the cloak of darkness, "to protect Rochelle's secret, and to protect Victor too." She had gotten used to the warmth radiating from the lean yet muscular figure next to her. They were not lovers, because she was still too far gone from the atrocities committed to her body by the slave traffickers. She caught glimpses of the extent of Chris's knowledge of the secrets in every dark crevasse of the capital from living with him. There were rumours and whispers that Victor and the King's nephew Yura were connected to the demons. They were seen too many times at the place where Yura's grandfather was placed under house arrest for being deemed a 'demon loving lunatic'.

"I should have warned him when word came from the North," Chris's closed his eyes as he winced.

"Chris, don't be harsh on yourself," Mila turned closer to him, "Victor said himself that he would do anything to end this war. And only then he could join finally join Yuuri and forget about this whole damn place. Even if you warned him about his engagement, do you think it would have made a difference?"

Chris sighed and didn't say anything.

"Do you...suspect the King...being one of them?" Mila changed the topic.

"Without Rochelle's powers to confirm, anyone could be one of them. Without protection from someone from our side, she won't last one week inside the palace," Chris's voice chilled Mila to the bone, "Rochelle is strong, but she voluntarily walked straight into the pit full of vipers."

"You are saying this city is crawling with the Fallen?" Mila gripped the cover.

"Without a doubt."

Mila shuddered, as she thought about the invisible enemy. Few possess the powers to see the angels of the North since ancient times. One or at most two mages in every century were born with those powers. The angels had the choice to reveal themselves to the mankind. Since the beginning of time they watched over the Northern Kingdom and brought upon peace and prosperity to the small yet untouchable land by their enemies.

As for the Fallen, they were angels once, according to Chris, that committed the unspeakable.

* * *

They returned to Victor's bedroom after the ceremony. Fatigue caught up with them because preparation started since the crack of dawn. Victor was grateful to free himself from the thick crimson attire in the Nikiforov color, "listen Rochelle," he sank into the dark brown cushions of the couch in the chamber connected to the bedroom and interlaced his hands, "you have my word, I would never make you do anything you don't want to do."

To his surprise, she laughed, " Chris told me you would say that." She removed her veil, "ow! It's stuck, can you help me?"

Victor hesitated because he had no clue what to do either, he walked behind her and lightly freed the red strands with gentle hands as if tending a wounded bird.

"I am relieved today was over with," she removed too many pins from her hair she lost count, "this is more exhausting than going to the battlefield."

Victor nodded in agreement, "you can use the bath first and sleep in the bed. I will spend the night here." There was only one person Victor thought of tonight.  _How am I going to explain this to Yuuri._  A pang of guilt twisting and gnawing him from inside.  _Would he forgive me? Is this betrayal?_  He had an urge to sleep outside tonight like he did with Yuuri and, pretending that he was close again.

"Can you...come here for a second?" Rochelle's dark red hair flowed over her shoulder, "I can't breathe in this dress." She turned around and pulled her hair out of the way with a hint of blush on her face.

"Yea," Victor tugged the lace trapping her inside and turned automatically to face the window with his eyes locked onto the stars. He missed watching the stars with Yuuri more than anything. Yuuri used to rest his head on Victor's lap as he told him stories about the constellations passed down from the demons' ancestors that were not so different from the mages' own version.

"Thanks," she exhaled a sigh of relief. She clutched the front of the off-white gown studded with topaz and pearls and headed for the bath.

* * *

Rochelle returned from the in a mauve night gown ending with frills. Victor sat by the window, his sideways profile illuminated by the moonlight. His gaze transfixed onto the night sky above with his chin resting on his palm. The room filled with soft scent of lavender from her bath.

"Let's end this war Victor, so you and I can both be free. And you can join him," Rochelle leaned against the window.

"I can't help but ask, why are you doing all of this?" Victor peered at her through his silver lashes.

She hugged herself tight, "because in my Kingdom I saw the aftermath of slavery and this cursed war. I saw hundreds of orphaned demons, shapeshifters with broken wings, mutilated bodies after being treated no different than livestock. Some lost their minds from being violated over and over again...I couldn't watch anymore." She gripped onto the sleeves of her night gown as she shuddered, "I got tired of feeling powerless because my family insisted on hiding it from the rest of the world. They were afraid that the wrong people would come after me and to come after the angels because I could see them." She released her grip, "I grew up with the entire Kingdom whispering that I was born without magic."

Victor's inhaled sharply,  _I know what that's like._  He whispered with his mind.

"That's why I picked up the sword," she turned to face the window watching the stars above.

Listening to Rochelle's story was the same as watching his own life unfold, "I know what that's like, growing up I wanted my powers to manifest more than anything," he didn't know he could laugh on a night like this, but he did, "I didn't find my powers until the age of twenty five. I figured, I could either feel sorry for myself or do something about it. I picked up the sword for the same reason." He felt as if he had known her all of his life.

"We should have a duel," Rochelle smirked, "I fought off all of the suitors that ever challenged me last year. But your reputation with the sword travelled as far as my kingdom."

Victor smiled back, "I would be honored."

They walked towards the balcony of the castle overlooking the kingdom illuminated by twilight.

Rochelle's expression turned serious all of a sudden, "Victor, do you want to see what I see?"

Victor shivered, he took a deep breath.

Rochelle wrapped her fingers around his palm.

The moment their bare skin touched, Victor's lips parted, the colour draining from his face. The city was crawling with translucent creatures from another world. Their dragged their wings that barely had any feathers left. Some of their wings stuck on at the wrong angles. Their eyes hollow and dark like the abyss. The enemy had been masquerading next to him the entire time. Some huddled along the rooftops, others hissed as they stalked people below.

Rochelle wasn't surprised by his reaction, "those are the lesser ones, we believe the greater ones already infiltrated the castle."

"Greater ones?"

"The Fallen are the renegade angels that committed the unforgivable, who snapped their own wings. That's how they become a Lesser one," Rochelle released his hands, "First their feathers fall off, their appearance change and they transform into what you see below."

The city returned to its normal appearance as she let go of his hand.

"To become more powerful and to multiply, the Fallen feast on death, the rotten bodies from the war. Eventually, they become more powerful and capable of attacking the living." Rochelle leaned against the balcony, facing him, as a wave of wind lifted some of her loose red locks.

"They ate the eyes and the heart of mages and demons," Victor wrinkled his eyebrows as he narrowed his eyes. The war. All of the missing pieces of the puzzle snapped together.

Rochelle nodded with a solemn expression, "as they begun their second transformation, they become harder to track, even for me. I suspect that's when they learn to take over the bodies of mages or demons like parasites. For this reason, I agreed to my father's proposal of marrying you."

Victor's aquamarine eyes locked onto the ground, his knuckles turning white from his grip on his balcony's ledge, "what happens to the souls of the ones they latched onto?"

"They slowly perish, until their body was nothing but an empty shell. At least, that's my theory so far."

* * *

"Yuuri, I have something to tell you," Victor kept his eyes on the ground as the storm clouds gathered overhead.

"What's wrong," Yuuri wore black gloves this time, he stroked Victor's hair parting it further to one side so he could stare at the face he would never grow tired of.

Victor struggled to keep his voice from breaking, as Yuuri stroked the side of his face. They promised no more secrets, "I am...married." He revealed the inevitable.

Yuuri's dark red irises never changed, but he forced Victor to look him in his eyes.

"Yuuri, I -" before Victor could finish, Yuuri placed one of his gloved fingers over his lips.

"I know, you only have eyes for me." Yuuri finished his sentence, "you don't have to apologize."

Victor felt the tight lump his throat tighten, he parted his lips then closed them again. They didn't need words anymore. Victor avoided his gaze, "we didn't do anything..."

"Given your position, sooner or later suitors would line up for you." Yuri curled his arms around him and buried his face in Victor's chest, his breaths warm through the thin white fabric of Victor's tunic, "I missed you...who is she?"

Victor pressed him closer, "Rochelle Aurelia."

"Princess of the North." Yuuri finished his sentence.

"She is on our side, Yuuri, she wanted the war to end," Victor couldn't help but feeling a wave of love sweeping through him for the girl who wagered her own life for the sake of the demons. "She agreed to marry me so she could reside within the palace. She had been investigating your parents' death since the beginning. When the war is over we promised each other freedom..." He told Yuuri everything, about Rochelle's powers that she kept a secret all of her life, about the Fallen swarming in the capital.

"The North," Yuuri sighed, "If only we could move everyone there fast enough and without being noticed. Recently the capital reinforced troops to the perimeters." Yuuri begun to undo Victor's buttons revealing a sliver of his pale chest, "The selfish part of me is envious of her, because I want you all to myself. But Rochelle is someone I could never bring myself to hate." Victor's tunic fluttered to the ground.

His dark crimson eyes made Victor weak, they are wide, without a hint of hatred like when they first met.

Yuuri's dark sleeves rolled down revealing intricate silver rings around his wrists.

Victor's ocean coloured eyes widened, "Yuuri why are you wearing demon manacles?!"

Yuuri laughed at last as he scratched his head, "I thought maybe that can suppress my powers and we can..."

Victor pulled him close again, exasperated, "you are unbelievable..." F _or me, he would toss away all of his pride, and wrap around the symbol of the enslavement of his kind around his wrists._  He realized for Yuuri and to bring peace to the demon kind, he would give anything. He knew marrying Rochelle wasn't a mistake.

"Victor, judge me all you want. Minako trained me to resist the demon manacles," Yuuri flashed a small smile meant for him alone. He stroked the outline of Victor's face, traced his fingers down his neck and onto his muscular chest. Shivers ran down Victor's spine as Yuuri encircled his nipple.

Thick grey clouds blanketed the sky. They stood next to each other under their tree. Victor found himself completely naked next to Yuuri, who was still clad in his usual light armour the colour of midnight with his black traveling cloak fluttering in the wind.

Yuuri's eyes paused on the thin chain Victor wore with his wedding ring fastened at the end, then he rummaged through his dark cloak and opened his palm again.

Victor gasped because he knew exactly what the smooth sapphire with red streaks running across was. He fantasized this scene in his mind over and over.

Yuuri's dark crimson eyes never looked as mesmerizing as now, "I want you to have this."

"Your...Firestone." Victor could hear his own voice trembling and blood humming and pulsating within both of his ears.

Yuuri nodded, "if I may." He lifted the thin chain around Victor's neck with one hand and closed his palm around the thin malleable metal and his Firestone. A wave of warmth and an orange glow inside his palm followed, the stone became a part of the chain.

Victor felt its weight land onto his bare chest. He could hardly breathe. He remembered Yura's grandfather and Otabek speak fondly of the Firestones as the way demons promise themselves to each other. He now carried a piece of Yuuri's soul. He picked it up still warm from Yuuri's powers that could turn earth into an ocean of lava. He kissed it. Yuuri wrapped his arms around the small of his back, until he felt the demon's hot breaths on his lips.

"Walk with me through through the fire, when all of this is over," Yuuri's red irises bored into his. This was neither a question nor a command. It was a statement that Victor had no other answer to.

Victor leaned closer until their lips almost touched. His silvery locks mixed with Yuuri's dark hair. Yuuri cupped his face with his gloved hands.

A giant raindrop bounced from Victor's long silvery eyelashes onto Yuuri's forehead. Yuuri let out a small laugh as more drops trickled from the bridge of Victor's nose down to Yuuri's cheeks. A flash of lightning danced across the sky of the dimming horizon amidst the thick grey clouds. A wave of warm wind revealed the underside of the leaves of their tree next to the turquoise lake sacred to the demons.

"Yuuri, kiss me, I don't care if I burn..." Victor whispered as he intertwined his fingers with Yuuri's gloved hands. Another flash of lightning followed reflecting the silver of the demon manacles around Yuuri's wrists.

Slowly Yuuri closed his eyes as the deafening thunder shook them to the core. The rain was so heavy that the presence of the tree above them made no difference. He leaned forwards and pressed his lips against Victor's in anticipation of pain because of their powers rejected each other with fury.

Neither of them cared about the pain anymore.

But this time, shielded by the rain, the burning never came.

They could not believe how simple the answer was. Yuuri threw his head back and couldn't help but laugh out loud. Maybe this is the higher power's idea of a sick joke.

For Yuuri's bare skin to not burn each time Victor touched him, all they need was something in between.

Rain.

They needed more than the gentle drops of the late spring.

The sky needed to weep its heart out.

They later discovered jumping into a lake was cheating. Their touch still brought excruciating pain despite being underwater.

Yuuri leaned in for a second kiss to confirm that this was real. He pinched himself to make sure this moment wasn't a figment of his imagination.

It wasn't.

His dark hair was plastered to his head from the downpour.

He leaned in for the third and fourth.

Yuuri ripped off his gloves and threw them onto the ground. Victor's fingers unclasped Yuuri's armour as his breast plate fell sending splashes of rain on their legs. His hands freed Yuuri's buttons. His hands snaked around Yuuri's back lifting his shirt.

Yuuri sealed his lips tight around Victor's neck as he left his mark.

Victor then parted Yuuri's lips with his tongue as Yuuri groaned into his mouth as he let him in.

They fumbled through Yuuri's wet clothes until they piled next to them on the ground. They raced against time because they knew once the rain stops, the truce between their powers would dissolve. They knew being this close was the same as playing with fire, they didn't give a damn.

Yuuri lowered Victor's back onto the grass. Six years ago, Yuuri laid on the ground as Victor asked him over and over to tell him if it hurt, and if he wanted to stop. This time, Yuuri's body pressed against his from the top until there were no space between them.

It felt right.

Yuuri interlaced his fingers within Victor's and felt his grasp tighten as they once again became as close as two beings could be.

After six years apart, they never lost faith, despite the entire universe protesting, telling them that they weren't meant to be. Despite their powers like ice and fire, destined to destroy each other.

Yuuri walked the fine line between gentleness and insatiable passion. Marks from his kisses now covered Victor's skin. His nails left streaks of red on Victor's back. His Firestone glistened at the place next to Victor's heart flush to his own.

They shuddered from the sweet rapture and the cold from the endless waterfall pouring from the sky.

"Did I hurt you?" Yuuri panted as he slowed down after unleashed all of his control and surrendered.

A warm trickle that was once a part of the demon prince he loved ran down his thigh. Victor shook his head, "I don't want this..." He rested his face against Yuuri's chest, "to end."

Yuuri ran his fingers through Victor's wet silvery locks. He felt the vibrations from Victor's heart beating next to his own, "you have mud in your hair." He kissed the top of Victor's head.

A small chuckle escaped Victor's throat as he propped himself up over Yuuri, "you do too." The feeling of Yuuri lingered inside his body. He leaned down and brushed his lips over Yuuri's eyes, his nose, the corner of his smile and his pointed demon ears, as if there were only two of them in the world.

Yuuri wasn't his first.

But he would be his last.

* * *

**Author's note:**

This is the chapter I was the most scared to write.

Maybe this will ruffle some feathers, but I decided to stay true to my story.

Rochelle is a character that I am proud of & I stand by her.

Let me know what you think!

xoxo

-Antares

P.S. With some unexpected inspiration I posted another story in a genre I never thought I would write. If you want to read the opposite of a fantasy, take a look at my story 'There Is' (a medical AU where Victor and Yuuri are doctors).


	8. This Beautiful Madness

**Chapter 8: This Beautiful Madness**

"How do you...fight those things," Victor stood next to Rochelle on their balcony.

Her golden eyes transfixed on the distance. Victor didn't want to know what she saw, because the Fallen angels that swarmed in this city. Those broken wings, and hollow eyes were enough to give children nightmares to no end.

"I am waiting for a friend of mine who will have the answers," Suddenly her face lit up as the first ray of sunshine, "Sara! I missed you!"

Victor heard wingbeats in the direction Rochelle tilted her head towards the sky sending dark red waves spilling over her shoulder.

Rochelle's lips curled up and she pulled on the metal ring opening the door leading towards their bedroom, "You can show yourself, this is Victor."

Victor's lips parted as Rochelle embraced her friend as her red locks fell onto Sara's wings.  _An Angel._ As Rochelle told him before angels had the choice to reveal themselves, like Sara did now.  _I wonder if the Fallen could do the same._

Rochelle had the secret power to see Angels at any given time. Her parents insisted on keeping her abilities quiet, in case she fell into the wrong hands. The Angels would be in trouble. Like Victor, she grew up amidst the whispers that the Princess of the Aurelia mages had no powers. Instead of feeling sorry for herself, Rochelle picked up the sword. Only one year ago, when her father, the King of the North, spoke about her engagement, she said she would marry the person who could defeat her. He agreed with her proposal because he wanted her to find happiness on her own terms. But at the end of the tournaments, Rochelle stood victorious. She never wanted to get married in the first place. But the spectacle of knights from all over the Kingdom challenging her for her hand brought alliances and prosperity. When Victor heard her story, he couldn't help but feel as if deep down, they were the same person. However, the difference between them was Rochelle grew up in a loving family.

"Hi Victor," the girl with violet eyes and a pair of folded wings, her brown hair flowed past her waist. She wore a simple white shift with intricate golden embroidery at her collar, "I am Sara Crispino." As she shook Victor's hand she mumbled under her breathe, "curious..."

 _What's curious?_  Victor wondered but didn't want to pry. He had never seen an Angel up close. They were elusive ethereal beings that watched over the Northern Kingdom for centuries that never ventured far from beyond those snow covered mountains.

"I was so worried about you, Rochelle," Sara grasped onto her friend's arm, "I came to bring you this," she reached one hand towards the sword fastened at the place between her wings.

Rochelle almost leapt with joy, "it's...beautiful." Victor shared her passion for swordsmanship, he understood that emotion. She ran two fingers across the sheath, "Sara..." She continued to admire the sword and did not finish her sentence. The carvings of the black sheath had an ancient characters that Victor didn't recognize. Rochelle pulled on its handle ending in a black gem so dark that not even light could escape.

Sara's face changed to a more serious expression, "The Elders still insist on doing nothing about the Fallen, because they didn't want to have anything to do with the Mages, the Demons or the war. But the Fallen, they were once parts of us." She shook her head with disgust, "they should feel at least partly responsible..."

Rochelle's golden gaze met hers, "what is this sword?" She transferred it into her other hand, her fingers curled around its comforting weight.

"Sword of Justice, it can destroy the Fallen." Sara pressed her lips together.

"Tell me you didn't steal this, you will be punished," Rochelle sheathed the sword swiftly.

Sara shrugged, a few pure feathers fell onto the shiny stone floor, "the most they could do to me is shut me in for a few days, and not allow me to leave the Northern Peaks. You know my position amongst my kind...But I am worried about you, walking right into the hornet's nest, I can't bear if something happens -"

More wingbeats accompanied by knocking stopping her in mid-sentence.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Sara turned around sharply and pulled the balcony door open, "Michele! I told you I will be fine traveling on my own."

Victor amused himself for a second, who would have thought Angels could also be foul mouthed. The image of Yura flashed before his mind.

Sara tugged at the ear of the Angel with the same shade of brown hair and violet eyes as she had and slammed the balcony door. White feathers were drifting everywhere as Rochelle giggled.

"So this is your twin brother," Rochelle rested her elbow on Sara's shoulder, "Hi Michele."

Sara rolled her eyes, "He is way too protective, I am not that fragile..."

"But - ," Michele protested.

Victor wasn't sure how to respond as he watched the pair of sibling bicker, as Rochelle clutched her stomach with silent laughter. The heavy atmosphere now dissolved.

More wingbeats interrupted Sara's exasperated voice and Michele's protest, they turned their head in unison. Rochelle opened the balcony door for the third time. A dark haired young man with a stoic expression joined them. He folded his wings with grace as he glided through the door.

Sara turned around and blushed.

"Crispino," Seung Gil's voice was as icy as as his face, as if nobody else was in the room and that he wasn't intruding at all, "it's dangerous here, let's go home."

"You came...for me?" Sara placed a hand on over her heart, her violet eyes widened.

"Yea," He nodded, "why I come for  _him_?" He tossed Michele a dirty look, while ignoring his protest.

Rochelle threw Michele a sympathetic look, and laughed as she saw Victor's expression watching everything unfold, "they are not so different from us," She added with a lowered voice behind her palm.

Sara hugged her friend while she whispered not even trying to hide her happiness, "he really came!"

"You are pathetic, have some dignity will you?" Rochelle whispered back in her ear, "and also...be nice to your brother."

Her childhood friend gave her an affectionate shove, "Rochelle, good luck."

The red haired girl nodded.

Then the angels vanished from Victor's view, leaving the ground with a few lingering feathers.

* * *

The crisp bell rang, as Mila dried her red hair to get ready for bed, the fake demon manacles dangled at her slender wrists. A demon without manacles would be hunted by the soldiers of this kingdom within seconds.

Chris was still in the bath after being with a client in the evening. He had been unusually busy lately. After all, he was one of the most famous courtesans in this Kingdom, where no one ordinary could afford a night with him. He had enough wealth to last several lifetimes, but more important than money, Chris dealt in secrets.

Mila turned her head towards the sound but wasn't able to find where it came from. The bell rang again.

Chris emerged, his skin flushed from the steam dressed in a rich wine coloured velvet robe.

_Ding!_

"It must be one of the candles," He opened his closet, revealing belts, chains, feathers and various objects that made Mila blush and avert her gaze, "What else do you expect a renowned courtesan to keep in his closet?" Chris chuckled. He reached the lever nestled amongst the  _objects_  hanging from his closet and pulled, "Mila can you hand me a candle?"

A creaking sound revealed a doorway led into darkness.

"I am coming with you." Mila lifted a thick red candle and settled it into the lantern, its flickering flames casting the shadow of her pointed demon ears onto the wall. It wasn't a question or a request.

"Are you sure? It's creepy down there," Chris tilted his head towards with a pensive expression.

Mila firmly nodded, "nothing is scary to me anymore...after...you know..." She meant things the slave traders did to her before Chris saved her. She shuddered with those flashback. Her nightmares were less frequent now, sometimes she woke up screaming and covered in cold sweat. Chris would be there to comfort her. They were not lovers because she was still too far gone. He always asked with a kind voice if she wanted him to hold her. She remembered clinging onto his firm muscular chest and drenching the front of his robes with her tears.

They followed the smooth stairs spiralling down without the end, their foot steps reverberated down the stone walls along with the sound of running water in the distance. The air around them cold and damp despite being in the middle of summer.

Mila shivered as felt every hair at the back of her neck stood.

"You want my hand?" She heard the amusement in his voice.

"Nope," she replied with a hint of stubbornness. She wasn't sure how much time passed before they reached the bottom of the staircase. She felt as if her senses were being robbed one by one and that she was descending into the underworld. They entered a large hollow chamber. Mila gasped because there were stacked skulls in its walls. Chris gave her a look that said,  _I told you..._

Mila followed him to the end of the chamber where holes on the stone wall dotted like a honeycomb. Before each of the opening there were candles of various colour. Some thick, others thin, some tall, while others almost reduced to a stump. Various objects sat behind each candles, scrolls, statues, knives, packages...

Chris, scanned the wall of candles and his gaze transfixed upon the one candle that gave out. He pulled the letter behind the pile of wax from opening in the wall and removed a vial from his robes. He poured its pale content onto the envelope.

Mila watched as a name started to form on the yellowing envelope:  _Victor Nikiforov._

"Looks like someone intended for Victor to receive this letter now," Chris handed the letter with the red waxy seal of the Nikiforov family at the back to Mila.

"You don't know who sent the letter?" Mila couldn't hold back her curiosity.

"No," Chris begun to make his way towards the exit, "I only know when the time comes for the letter to be delivered. I would not have known it was meant for Victor until now."

"Chris, just...who are you?" Despite knowing him for the past several months, her saviour was still shrouded in mystery. She wasn't sure if he was a demon or a mage, or something else.

"I have many names, the Secret Keeper is one of them," He chuckled, kindness filled his golden eyes, "there are certain other parts of me, Mila, the less you know, the better, so hush, and please don't tell anyone about this place." He winked at her.

 _The Secret Keeper._  Mila knew not to ask anymore questions. She trusted him with her life.

Part of her wished he would open up to her.

* * *

Victor sat on the rock next to their cliff, Yuuri wrapped one of his arms around his waist. Victor leaned into the firmness of Yuuri's chest. He felt home. His heart pounded since the moment he saw the crimson Nikiforov seal at the back of the faded envelope.

Above them there was not a single cloud in the sky.

The red wax gave way with ease. Yuuri's rested his chin on Victor's shoulder, his breaths made Victor's neck tingle a little. Yuuri tightened his protective arm around him as they read the letter together.

Victor had the feeling he did not want to read this alone...because the letter was from his father.

**_Dear Victor,_ **

**_By the time you are intended to read this letter, soon I will cease to exist in this world. The day your powers awakened would be when the Azriel, the Fallen angel living inside me truly took over, and the little part of me that still existed could no longer fight back. I suppressed your magic because he would come after your body next, because of who you are. If he did, it might be the end of the Nikiforov mages, the Angels and the Demons. I am sorry I wasn't much of a father to you. I didn't have any choice._ **

**_Let me back up and tell you who you are._ **

**_You are half Angel, Victor._ **

**_You have the powers of both the Angels and the Nikiforov bloodline._ **

**_I met your mother on a diplomatic mission on the Northern Kingdom. She was about to come of age. Every Angel had a choice at the age of twenty one. They had one chance every year to leave the Northern Peaks to see the world disguised as a human so they could make the choice to stay in the sky with eternal life and their rules, or to descend on earth, grow old, and pass on with the wheel of time._ **

**_Your mother gave up the skies for me._ **

**_We found ourselves the happiest people in the world when I found out that she was carrying you, and that I am going to be a father._ **

**_Azriel was an angel once, he was obsessed with your mother from the beginning. He had always been the outcast because his feathers were grey, and your mother was the only kind one to him in the skies. He had a fascination with latching onto souls of other life forms. The Justices, who were the angels that reinforced their strict laws frowned upon him. Your mother, Irina, had always defended him hoping that he would abandon these ideas. But when Irina gave up her life on the Northern Peaks as an Angel, something inside him snapped._ **

**_He committed the taboo as he fed on the flesh of other Angels. First his grey feathers fell off, then his appearance changed into something grotesque, resembling the Lesser One. He snapped his own wings as the Justices chased him when they found out about his deed and plummeted straight down the Northern Peaks. They thought he was dead, and since the Angel Elders did not want to have anything to do with the world below, they did not pursue any further. Without his wings, his form begun to vanish too, initially he possessed the bodies of animals. But those decay rather quickly because when the soul inside dissipated the body went with it. He wandered the wilderness starving, without form, driven insane with hunger and rage. But he was saved by another Fallen, more terrifying than himself: Lilith._ **

**_Lilith taught him how to stop himself from disappearing, by eating the vital organs of animals at first, then the eyes and hearts of demons and mages alike. As Azriel grew more powerful, he was able to sustain his wingless existence. But without a body tethered to his soul he would need to feed on flesh continuously to stay in this world. When both of them grew powerful enough, Azriel came for his revenge on the night you were born._ **

**_He killed your mother, and as he was about to end your life I confronted him. I vowed I would never let anything happen to you. I offered my own life in exchange for yours. I voluntarily gave him my body, and bound my soul to his. Because otherwise he would kill you then the young Nikiforov Mages one by one. I could keep him in check because I had the power to destroy my body, which he needed. It must have been easier to end everything, but I couldn't, knowing if I did end my own life he would simply find another host. He would slaughter the mages, and he would hurt you._ **

**_Ever since then he was living inside me, I saw things through his eyes and his memories. If I let him stay in my body long enough, I would know every dark corner of his soul until I could find how to destroy him. He loved your mother more than anything. That was perhaps the only sane part of him. Go through the forest past the Northern gate, there is a clearing, and you would understand._ **

**_There are moments where he lurked in the background of my mind. I hid the fact that I suppressed your powers, it took everything. When I taught the Mages, he let me be. But when it came to you, he always took over. It nearly destroyed me when he took the present that I prepared for your eleventh birthday and cut your hand with it instead. I thought he laid dormant at that time so I dared to try. I understood him after watching the world through his eyes. He tormented you to make me watch as revenge._ **

**_On occasion he would leave my body chained in the dungeon to discuss his plans with Lilith to stir up more chaos, to create more bodies for the Lesser Ones to feed on so they could evolve to the Greater One like themselves. Azriel couldn't sustain his form for long without a host or his wings. When the demon King and Queen were invited for the peace treaty, Azriel locked me in the dungeon. The next thing I knew, demons and mages were at war._ **

**_I believe Azriel and Lilith took over the bodies of Hiroko and Toshiya Katsuki and murdered our Queen and Princess, sparking the war between the Mages and the demons._ **

**_The Mage King is meek, I have no doubt it was Lilith who lived inside him._ **

**_Your next question might be, how to destroy the Fallen, the Lesser ones will disappear and lose their form when the war ends and there's no more body to feed on. Also, as Angels and Demons were nemesis since the beginning of time, therefore a powerful demon could make them dissipate. But to destroy the Greater Ones, like Lilith and Azriel, our hands are tied. I suspect there are other Greater Ones that infiltrated the court and disguised as nobles._ **

**_I saw a prophecy on an ancient scroll from Azriel's memories._ **

**_"Three to stand between Light and the Darkness_ **

**_Three swords that choose their wielders_ **

**_One from the Skies stained with Angel blood_ **

**_One from the Earth consuming its masters_ **

**_One from the Stars hidden in the Riddler's cradle_ **

**_Three less one and the darkness reigns"_ **

**_There are a three ancient swords in this world that possess infinite but dark powers._ **

**_One was gifted to the Justices, they are the Angels in charge of disciplining their own kind. When an Angel break their strict laws, the Justices used this sword to cut off their wings. The Sword of Justice could only be wielded by an Angel._ **

**_The next sword had to be kept by Centaurs who retreated deep into the forests: Sword of the Half Moon. I figured this because what else loves the stars and riddles more than those elusive creatures? Scribbled on its hilt, according to the legends it could only be wielded by someone who stood with 'one foot in the light and the other in the darkness'. Remember the demon slave I gifted to our young Prince Yuri Plisetski? It was not a coincidence. I searched through the captured demon slaves and I do suspect he had the highest probability of obtaining that sword._ **

**_But the final sword was lost in the world. It had many names, Sword of Temptation, Sword of Truth, Demon Sword, thousands of lives were destroyed by it, so the Demons decided to make it disappear. It's an object of evil that could only yield to a Demon as its master. More than one of its previous owners lost their minds after committing mass murder with it. I believe only a powerful Demon untainted by hate could make it obey._ **

**_Find those swords and their masters and you could stand a chance._ **

**_There is only one thing that I ask of you. A little demon by the name of Minami took care of me when Azriel locked my body in the dungeons. Azriel tortured him and cut off his tongue before putting demon manacles on. Minami risked his life to fetch paper and ink for me to write this letter. He took it to the Secret Keeper and asked him to light a candle for me. When my candle burnt out, before the last remaining part of me disappeared forever from this world this letter would be delivered to you. Please set him free._ **

**_And Victor, I couldn't not put my regrets in words for not being a father to you. I had to give up my body and soul to Azriel so I could learn everything about him, including how to defeat him._ **

**_This is my way of saying goodbye and entrusting the Nikiforov Mages in your hands._ **

**_I love you._ **

**_-Viktor Nikiforov_ **

Victor's hand trembled as he finished reading. His father had similar cursive handwriting as he did, and they even shared the same name. After all these years he yearned for his father's attention and his kindness in secret, only to learn at the end his father loved him all along. His father sacrificed everything for him, for the future of the Nikiforov Mages. He pressed his father's letter against his heart.  _He was the bravest man I had ever known._  He slumped against Yuuri's strength and his warmth. Yuuri was also shaking, because the mystery of his parents' death resolved at last.

"I am...part Angel," Victor bit his lip. Still stunned because of the number of puzzle pieces that clicked together all at once. Including the reason they couldn't touch skin to skin, because Victor's powers came from the skies and Yuuri's from the earth. Without the rain making peace between the earth and the skies, their raw magic clashed with fury. After all, Angels and Demons were nemesis since the beginning of time.

Yuuri cupped Victor's face between his hands clad by black gloves. The demon manacles around his wrist shone, concentrating the sunlight onto one spot. He wore them to suppress his own powers in case their bare skin touched. The way Yuuri gazed at him translated to,  _you are the most beautiful Angel I have ever seen_. The didn't need words anymore. Yuuri pulled him close until the tip of their nose almost touched.

"They used my parents..." Yuuri's voice broke, "Azriel and Lilith," his crimson eyes narrowed as he uttered the name of their common enemy.

They were both thinking of the same thing as Yuuri slowly closed his eyes, his eyelashes brushing against Victor's cheeks. The sky above them was cloudless and blue.

Their kiss was excruciating, despite the demon manacles Yuuri wore and Victor suppressing all of his powers, but neither of them cared. Their physical pain paled in comparison from every word of the letter that shook them to the core. Their lips pressed together, closing all of the space between them. They clung to each other with all of the longing and desperation in the world.

They breathed the air from each other's lungs.

They stood in defiance of destiny that told them that they weren't meant to be.

The half-Angel and the Demon prince.

Fighting on the same side.

* * *

Victor walked towards the clearing his father wrote about in his letter, with Yuuri's comforting warmth beside him.

The crystalline brook whispered near by. The foliage appeared thick in the middle of July, casting only spots of light on the moss covered ground. The serenity of this forest was a stark contrast to the battlefield between the Demons and the Mages.

White marble statues appeared into their view.

Victor covered his mouth with one hand his blue-green eyes glistened, wondering how someone so cruel could create something so beautiful.

The statues were of the same woman with flowing hair past her waist in various stages of completion.

Victor's fingers ran across the pale shoulder of the nearest statue Azriel created of his mother who he never met. She had flowers weaved into her hair, down to the detail of every petal. Her gaze transfixed upon the white marble sparrow landing on her finger. Her face soft and angular at same time.

He moved onto the next statue, where his mother's arms were raised towards the sky, a pair of majestic wings sprouted from her back. This statue was older because the marble appeared less pale, with vine spiralling up around her waist.

Despite Azriel's madness, the beauty in the statues were undeniable.

Victor never thought this would be the way he saw the image of his mother for the first time, through the eyes of their enemy who loved her. Their enemy who destroyed everything.

Yuuri interlaced his gloved fingers with Victor's and squeezed his hand tight.

* * *

**Author's notes:**

This is probably the hardest chapter I have ever written.

One of my favourite scenes is in the next chapter, I was looking forward to writing it for a long time.

I love grey characters, blurring the line between good nor evil, that makes them interesting...like Victor's father, like Professor Snape.

Maybe this chapter took you by surprise, let me know!

-A

P.S. If you want to read the opposite of fantasy, see my side project, an AU where Victor and Yuuri are doctors:  _There is._

P.P.S. On Tumblr if you want to chat: https://antarespromise.tumblr.com/


	9. The King we have chosen

_**Three to stand between Light and the Darkness** _

_**Three swords that choose their wielders** _

_**One from the Skies stained with Angel blood** _

_**One from the Earth consuming its masters** _

_**One from the Stars hidden in the Riddler's cradle** _

_**Three less one and the darkness reigns** _

* * *

"Mari, Minako," Yuuri entered the humble stone hut within the secret village of the demons masked by the illusion that Mari conjured and Minako reinforced, "there is someone I'd like you to meet." Right before he closed the wooden door, a giant raven pierced the air like an arrow and fluttered inside.

"Phichit!" Yuuri's face lit up as Phichit transformed back to his human form clad in black and with a thin leather band across his forehead ending in a midnight blue bead and a blue-black feather.

"You have some explaining to do -" Phichit grinned at his friend, his expression uncertain when his glance fell upon the red-clad mage next to Yuuri.

Mari, who was smoking her pipe a second ago stood up straighter, her half lidded eyes widened.

The only person who appeared unfazed was Minako as Victor entered after Yuuri. Her pregnant belly was beginning to show.

Victor's hand reflexively closed around the shape of Yuuri's Firestone. He wore it next to his bare skin on the same chain as his wedding ring with Rochelle. The Firestone was the demons' way of promising themselves to another. It was the equivalent of carrying a piece of Yuuri's soul. He came in the Nikiforov's red robes today, and a matching pair of crimson gloves. Because he was half angel, each time his skin touched Yuuri's, they both experience excruciating pain because powers from the sky and the earth weren't meant to be. The only time they could be together was in the pouring rain. He used to hate wearing the Nikiforov Mage attire, because reminded him of his father. Everything changed after he read that letter. He wore it now with pride.

Before a mage manifested his powers he was not allowed to dress in red. Victor remembered always clad in white when he returned to their castle, where the younger mages in their teens already changed to red. He used to wear white even after his powers had awoken in spite of his father. Only recently he found out that his real father - who sacrificed himself by giving Azriel his body willingly - had been suppressing his powers so Azriel wouldn't think of taking over his body next.  _What would be point of taking over the body of someone without power?_

His magic manifested when his father's soul was fading, while Azriel grew more stronger from within.

"This is Victor Nikiforov," Yuuri's expression soft, he wrapped a protective arm around Victor's lower back and pulled him closer so nobody in the room could mistaken their relationship and that he had nothing to hide. Victor was take aback by Yuuri's boldness. He remembered the first time Yuuri kissed him when they were about to part eight years ago. Yuuri must have gathered all of his courage, because Victor noticed he was tripping over his words and stuttering for hours before that. Yuuri blushed and ran away afterwards. The bold side of Yuuri drove him over the edge.

"You are sleeping with someone, I knew it! You smiled more, sometimes you have this expression, that I can't put in words -" Phichit uncrossed his arms, "Yuuri I am offended that you didn't tell me, I thought we were friends -" he pretended to pout.

"Of all Nikiforovs, this one huh?" Mari took another puff from her pipe.

"It's a long story," Yuuri's warm arm stayed where it was, "we know what happened to mother and father," he sighed.

Minako gestured towards the small wooden table, "Victor, sit, I'll make tea." On her lips a hint of a smile. She was a Nikiforov mage once, but she gave up her world of prestige to be with Celestino, the Demon general who once stood by Yuuri's father, the demon King.

"Thanks, Minako," he acknowledged her by name.

The tension between Mari and Victor hung heavy in the air. Phichit could sense it too he shuffled his feet and avoided eye contact.

Victor sat next to Yuuri by the simple wooden table. The hut was small, but traces of Minako could be found around every corner. Suspended from the wooden plank were bundles of dried lavender hung upside down. Minako loved lavender.

Yuuri told them everything.

About fourteen years ago his parents travelled to sign a peace treaty in the capital but were possessed by Azriel and Lilith and used to murder the King's wife and daughter. The King saw them bent over the bodies of their loved ones eating their flesh. He explained Azriel and Lilith were renegade angels that snapped their own wings as they fell from the sky.

Victor saw Mari's grip on the sleeves of her own orange dress tighten. He could sense her straining and trying to contain her emotions. He could only see her profile from the corner of her eyes.  _It would be impolite if I stare._

Then the wooden door creaked open and Celestino entered, "Yuuri," he nodded and frowned as he saw the crimson of Victor's attire. Tension again grew in the air, a few icicles formed around his fingers.

"It's alright, that's Yuuri's - " Minako paused to search for the word.

"Wait! Yuuri, you gave him your -" Phichit's gaze transfixed on the dark sapphire stone with fine threads of red around Victor's neck.

Victor found his hand there subconsciously whenever he felt uncertain, whenever he needed more strength...

"My Firestone, yes," Yuuri's voice was gentle.

Minako lightly touched Celestino's broad shoulder. He stood before her protectively. The muscles of his face relaxed, "it's alright. He is just like me."

Phichit broke the heaviness in the air when he clapped and his dark eyes glistened, "I'm happy for you Yuuri, though I am offended that you didn't tell me beforehand."

"I'm sorry," Yuuri blushed and scratched his head.

Celestino sat down next to them, the hut seemed crowded already with all of them inside.

Yuuri continued to tell them the truth about the spark that started the war between the demons and the mages. Since the brutal murder of the mage Queen and the Princess, the Nikiforov Mages executed the Toshiya and Hiroko Katsuki without a trial. Minako suppressed his memories and his magic and hid him in the forest while she fled the King's guards. The King, in his sadness and rage declared war. Demons were no longer regarded as equals but as no different from animals. The King ordered demons to be persecuted, and enslaved. Villages were burnt, pillaged, and the old and the young slaughtered. The able bodied sold and traded as slaves.

The mages used demon manacles to keep them at bay.

Victor cringed inside as Yuuri spoke about those cursed silver shackles that bound demons to their master that they must obey. Any ill thought, lies or separation from the master caused enough pain to even break the will of the strongest. Even Otabek almost crawled back to Yura that time the cruel teenagers locked him in a carriage and startled the horses.  _The essence of the demon manacle was my blood._  He shuddered. He had been giving his father his blood as he requested since he was eleven years old. He didn't question his father to avoid conversations. Guilt gnawed at him from the inside. Because his mother was an angel, his blood would made demons burn.

Victor told the next part of the story, about Azriel, who was an angel once and tortured by his own kind all his life. His mother was the only one kind to him. When his mother came of age, she gave up the the skies for his father. Azriel always had dark fascinations about possessing bodies of others and something snapped when Victor's mother left. Since the Elders of the angels did not care for any communication with the mages or the world below, they assumed Azriel for dead as they watched him snap his own wings and plummet from the land beyond the mountains of the North. By that point Azriel had already committed forbidden acts of consuming the flesh of other angels and his appearance begun to change and fade. To stop himself from dissipating, he latched onto the souls of others. The animals died rather quickly. In desperation he met another like him: Lilith. Nobody knew where Lilith came from, except he had powers to whisper into the mind of even the angels above. More angels begun to commit the same kind of act as Azriel and breaking their own wings becoming the Lesser Ones. To sustain their form, they had to constantly feed on the flesh of demons or mages alike, eating their eyes and their heart. Their appearance changed, first the feathers from their mangled wings fell off one by one. Then their facial features changed, from faces of impeccable perfection to grotesque, and hollow. They fed in hopes of transforming into Greater Ones, like Azriel and Lilith.

The dark violet candles were burning lower and lower as Yuuri and Victor continued. Minako lit another few.

"Everything makes sense!" Phichit exclaimed, his gaze hard, "Lilith and Azriel meant to start the war, to provide bodies for the Lesser Ones to feed on until they transform."

"How did you know all this?" Celestino stared into the candle flame. Minako resting her head against his shoulder.

Yuuri told them about the sacrifice Victor's father made. He gave his body willingly to Azriel, to be able to see the world through his eyes. Victor's father waited in pain to watch Azriel torture his own son. He bore the pain because this was the only way to find the enemy's weakness. Yuuri knew Victor would hurt from telling this part, he carried on in his place, about the three swords and the ancient prophecy.

_**Three to stand between Light and the Darkness** _

_**Three swords that choose their wielders** _

_**One from the Skies stained with Angel blood** _

_**One from the Earth consuming its masters** _

_**One from the Stars hidden in the Riddler's cradle** _

_**Three less one and the darkness reigns** _

"We have to find the swords to be able to defeat Azriel and Lilith," Phichit wrinkled his forehead.

"We think we have the first sword," Victor begun. They omitted the part about how he was married to Rochelle.  _They had just stopped regarding me with eyes that they gaze upon enemies, I think this part can wait for another day.._. _Rochelle,_  he promised, _I will set you free, you deserve your own happiness, someone who deserves you...someone who could match you in a sword fight..._ "But according to my father's letter, only an angel could bear that sword."

"Are you its master?" Phichit leaned in.

"I am afraid not," Victor sighed. He remembered holding the same sword that the angels who disciplined their own kind used to cut off the wings. When he picked it up, it felt like any other sword. He preferred his own. When he didn't have any powers, instead of feeling sorry for himself, he became the strongest swordsman in the entire kingdom.

"The strongest lead we have for the the swords from the Stars is with the centaurs," Yuuri stood up to stretch his legs, "on its hilt are the words that it can only be bore by someone standing with 'one foot in the darkness and one foot in the light'."

"Centaurs..." Celestino shook his head, as he explained to Victor that centaurs were technically demons, but they were elusive and had little trust in strangers, even within the demon kind.

Victor recalled his father's letter that him giving Otabek as a gift to Yura was not a coincidence, that he had the highest probability of obtaining the Sword of the Half Moon.  _Does that mean Otabek's true form was a centaur?_  Shivers ran down his spine as he imagined Otabek in his majestic form. He regretted never asking the tall silent demon that never left Yura's side for the past three years.  _Yura mentioned about thoughts of setting him free, about the way the mages treated demons were wrong...I wonder if he told Yura...After all, Yura never treated him like a slave._

"The final sword, had many names, like Sword of Truth, Sword of Temptation, Celestino, do you remember such object of evil that drove its master insane?" Yuuri sat next to Victor again, their elbows touched.

"Yes, Toshiya mentioned it once, that his great grandfather hid it in a place where it could never be found again, and that was the end of it." Celestino pressed his lips together, "which was good thing because its previous masters committed mass murder wielding it."

"So in other words we do not have any leads on this sword?" Phichit slumped in his chair.

Finally Mari, who stood in the corner with her pipe spoke, "not exactly, maybe  _he_  knows...Who else would collect treasures and forbidden objects?"

"No, not him," Celestino knew exactly who she was referring to, "he is...eccentric...to say the least."

"Who?" Yuuri asked.

"Loki, the demon who loves to play pirate and sail across the seas. He rarely interacted with our King back in the days, he likes to live by his own rules. I think he is in his early forties by now. His fleets were too far south from the capital, I believe not even the mage King dare to tamper with him. He was also hated by women, I believe, because he enchanted many with his charms and vanished." Celestino chuckled bitterly.

"That might be our best lead," Mari took another puff from her pipe, "a womanizing pirate."

Minako yawned, "sorry, this baby makes me feel like I am one hundred year old." That was the signal that the evening was coming to an end. Celestino placed a protective arm around her belly.

Victor gingerly rose from his chair. He knew that being accepted by the closest to Yuuri would take time, but his heart leapt when Mari said, "Yuuri is the only one I have left that shared the same blood. I stand by his choice," she took two steps forward and opened her arms, "welcome to the family."

There were reluctance in her voice an her movements, but that was the first step...

Victor wrapped his arms around her and smiled.

* * *

"Victor," Yuuri nestled his head on his shoulder, "when this war is over, I have no intention of staying as the demon prince."

Victor ran his gloved hands through Yuuri's dark strands, he wished the few layers of fabric weren't between them. He remembered their first time, when Yuuri turned eighteen and insisted. He had long silvery hair back then, because a Nikiforov mage without his powers was not allowed to cut his hair. Yuuri used to lay naked and tangled in his silver locks. He watched Yuuri's face, he could stare at him forever.

"I think it's stupid that power gets passed down by bloodline," Yuuri gazed up at him with his warm crimson eyes. Victor traced the outline of Yuuri's face with one finger, stopping at his pointed demon ears, "Celestino has everything that I lack, there is no better person to lead that he."

"Your people look up to you, Yuuri, I saw it with my own eyes," Victor kissed the top of his head, "you are being humble."

"No, I..." He turned to face him, their bodies pressed together, "as a leader, there are choices that must be made, and sometimes I would inevitably be cornered into deciding on the fate of others, ordering executions. I do not want to make these choices...I am not that strong, and I am sick of death, of killing even though sometimes we have no choice," Yuuri propped himself on one elbows and watched Victor from above.

"No Yuuri, your kindness is not the same as weakness," Victor's voice was firm yet gentle, "it makes perfect sense that you do not wish to be entangled in politic, of power, of manipulation and schemes. I know that world, and I am sick of it too."  _How could you live in this world and not be jaded, and tainted by hatred Yuuri?_  He realized that's a part of the reason he could not part from his demon prince. Yuuri's presence meant hope. It filled the void inside him, making him complete.

"I am glad you understand," Yuuri leaned in for an almost kiss, "I want to be wherever you are, because I am selfish and you are...you. No matter what decision you make then."

Victor inserted two fingers between their lips and Yuuri leaned down kissed his fingers. He felt the pressure with his lips, and Yuuri's warm breath.

"But I would never stop fighting until my people are safe. I would give anything in my power to end this war," Yuuri's face determined, "I would not stop until I set my people free and that Demon Song could be heard again."

"How does it go?" Victor asked.

Demon Song, it's a lullaby in the ancient language of the demons, where every mother knew its words. Being caught singing it in the capital meant certain death, as the King declared.

"I'll show you," Yuuri grinned, and begun to sing. It doesn't take a minstrel to make that song beautiful, because its words are as timeless as its gentle melody.

Victor closed his eyes and imagined waking up next to Yuuri every day after the war is over. He pictured the fire ceremony of their wedding in the tradition of the demons, where he would drop Yuuri's Firestone into the fire and walking through it with him. The magic of the Firestone would protect him from burning. He listened to the soft words roll off Yuuri's tongue. The ancient language of the demons was difficult to learn. He recalled Otabek trying to teach Yura a few of those words, and Yura regurgitated something incomprehensible to his grandfather and Otabek's amusement. His body grew heavier, as the gentle melody seeped into his soul. It was a lullaby after all. He gazed into Yuuri's deep dark red eyes.

Yuuri finished the song and flashed him a private smile meant for him alone.

Victor was at loss for words. They didn't need them anymore.  _I wish it was raining, so we could be close again._  He ran his gloved hand under Yuuri's black robe, "can I...see you?"

Yuuri nodded and undressed for him.

* * *

Yura made up his mind. The night before he clung onto his pillow with one hand clasped onto his lips to muffle the sounds, in case Beka heard him.  _Beka's shapeshifter ears were much sharper than humans._

Yura's pillow was soaked because the tears wouldn't stop falling.

Tomorrow he would set Otabek free.

Three years ago Otabek was given to him as an unwanted present and a nuance by Victor's father. Even though he was the king's nephew, refusal of a gift from the head of the Nikiforov Mages would be considered rude.

Yura's mother was the King's sister, who passed away shortly after his birth. The King accused his grandfather for being a 'demon loving lunatic' and placed him under house arrest.

His grandfather dodged the topic of Yura's father each time he brought it up, and said he would explain one day. But he could never be mad at the old man. Though since the house arrest order, the formidable general Plisetsky whose name made enemies shudder and piss themselves transformed into a jolly old man who loved demon legends and cooking for his grandson.

Yura had always been jealous when Beka and his grandfather conversed in the ancient language of demons. The soldiers sent to watch General Plisetsky were too fearful to stay up close therefore out of earshot. His grandfather greeted the shapeshifter like an old friend, unlike the remainder of the capital, which treated demons like animals. More and more demon slaves flooded in with the popularity of demon manacles. Owning a demon slave became a symbol of luxury.

Otabek wore demon manacles around his wrists that was magically connected to Yura as his master.

Yura hasn't called upon its powers for almost three years. Once activated, the demon must obey his master unconditionally, otherwise excruciating pain followed. A demon could not be further than a certain radius from his master either without feeling like a fish taken out of water. Even the demon or shapeshifter with the strongest will could not withstand that separation. He would crawl back to his master if that's what it took.

Yura reminisced the last time he activated the powers of the demon manacles, and demanded the answer to the question:  _what would you do to me if you weren't bound?_

To which Otabek responded,  _I would cut you up to tiny pieces and feed you to fish._

That was three years ago.

He wondered what Beka's answer would be now, but he wasn't going to ask. For three years they were never seen without each other. Beka didn't speak much, to Yura's delight. There was something comforting about the demon's brooding presence. Yura didn't have any friends his age. In fact, he hated people. All of the teenagers who once made fun of Yura for not knowing who his father was were gradually silenced. None of them were hurt, but fear lingered in their eyes and they avoided the duo. Beka never talked about himself, where he came from or his true form as a shapeshifter.

Yura decided not to press those answers out of him. He was the closest thing to a friend he ever had. The idea of setting Beka free terrified him.  _What if he disappears forever?_   _What if he would kill me. What if he would finally tell me that he hates me?_  Hundreds of questions flashed before Yura's mind, he felt a tight knot gnawing at his stomach. He broke into a cold sweat thinking about it. He thought about summoning Victor, but he was too embarrassed. Lately he noticed a new spark in Victor's eyes, like happiness or hope, despite the mages and demons were at war. He wondered if Victor had a lover or something and made a mental note to squeeze some answers out of him next time.

Light from the first hint of dawn invaded his window, the sky in the distance tinged pink. Grey clouds gathered above the capital city.

Yura rubbed his eyes, they were puffy from last night. He tiptoed and peered into the chamber attached to his where Otabek slept. His bed was empty. He was probably out practicing with the sword. Despite Otabek being by his side for the past three years, he still felt like a stranger. Beka rarely talked about himself, other than the few occasions of friendly conversations with Yura's grandfather. All Yura knew was that he was a shapeshifter and trained as a soldier before being persecuted, tortured and sold into slavery.

 _Today is the day,_  Yura sighed as he slipped out of his sleeping robes. Sometimes Otabek attended to him and brought his clothes. His entire being felt heavy, like the atmosphere before the storm outside. He put off his plan to set Beka free over and over and made excuses because he didn't want to let go. The thought of the palace, of his training without Beka's presence pierced him deep inside, ripping him in pieces inside.

He turned as the door creaked open and Beka brought him a tray containing water and his breakfast. He rubbed his eyes pretending that they itched so Beka wouldn't notice. His eyes stung again knowing this might be the last time Beka brought him breakfast. He bit into the soft and warm bread, suppressing the sting from his eyes, until he couldn't any longer, "Beka, fetch my riding clothes, and prepare the horses."

Otabek didn't say anything, Yura heard his footsteps fade. He was glad that bought him some time to pretend to sneeze, but he made a lame spluttering sound.

Otabek didn't question where he was going. He rode alongside him like a shadow. Thick clouds blanketed the sky, distant lightning shone through followed by thunder.

Their horses galloped deeper into the forest path. Yura made more excuses in his mind, wanting to turn around and go back to the way things were. That would have been easier.

A few thread thin rain begun to fall. Yura pulled the hood of his traveling cloak over his head. A few wet golden strands plastered to his forehead. His heart sank when they reached the clearing with the brook, halfway from the capital and the forest where his grandfather was kept under house arrest. He pulled the reins as his horse's hooves slowed down.

He heard Beka do the same behind him. He told him earlier he wanted to see his grandfather. The raindrops poured around them in waves. Yura unmounted from his horse, while Otabek mirrored him.

Yura turned around and with his mind he tugged on the strings of time in the space around him making the world freeze. As he grew more powerful, the radius of time he could control grew bigger inside. Raindrops all around them suspended in midair. Beka stood by his horse, with his usual stoic expression on his face and his deep dark eyes. His hand in mid motion of reaching for his horse. His lips slightly parted.

Yura pulled out his pocket knife as his heart bounded in his tightening chest. He cut his thumb with its sharp blade until drips of red trickled and met some of the raindrops suspended in midair. He was the only thing that moved, everything else was deathly still. The rain from outside of his radius sounded muffled, as if he was standing on the cusp of two worlds.

He dripped his blood onto Beka's demon manacles and watched it sizzle and come undone. He took two steps closer, until the top of his head was level with Otabek's lips.

Yura grabbed his collar, and raised himself on tiptoes until their lips met.

_Beka._

_Come back to me._

_I need you._

Hot tears streamed down from his forest green eyes onto the lips of the shapeshifter before him. Yura buried his face in his form chest and wrapped his arms around him and pulled on the back of his black traveling cloak until the fabric turned taught.

Yura spun around and walked away, still stopping time with his powers. He turned towards his horse with the golden mane and released a few fine invisible threads of time. She galloped away, leaving mud flying with every stride. Yura let his tears blend with the rain, he pulled out Victor's crumpled handkerchief and blew his nose in it. He turned and glanced at his friend one last time.

_Beka, you are free._

As he exited the clearing he released his powers. Time started to flow once more. The suspended raindrops coalesced before hitting the ground.

One voice whispered to the other muffled by the rain, after Yura was gone, "he passed the final test."

"I knew he would...after all, he is the king  _we_  have chosen."

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

I really wanted to write the rain scene...

So, for those of you who are curious, this is how I create stories. I am usually inspired by one or two scenes. For this one I pictured Yuuri as a misunderstood child surrounded by seemingly monstrous but gentle demons that love him. The other scene that inspired this story I can't share yet.

Then I make the outline & key scenes (sometimes I spoil myself by writing ahead).

Then I flesh out the story chapter by chapter, so yes, all of this madness was planned.

Let me know your thoughts!

-A


	10. Wisteria

"This could be one of the most dangerous scrolls in this kingdom if it landed in the wrong hands," Chris handed the dark violet candle the same rich colour as his velvet robes to Mila.

She peered over his shoulder reading the elegant cursive letters. Leroy, Ji, Popovich, Nikola, de la Iglesia...they were names. The list went on as the scroll trailed down towards Chris's knees. They were once again in the dark chilly underground chamber with the cubbyholes and candles.

"Who are these people?" Mila rested one hand on Chris's shoulder with ease.

"Order of the Wisteria. They are nobles, powerful families and commoners alike across the kingdom who wanted this war to stop. This is a list of our allies." Chris watched her bellflower eyes widen with a semi amused expression.

"Chris," exasperated, as shivers ran down her spine, "how many more secrets do you carry?" She gripped Chris's velvet robe tight.

With a good natured chuckle, "one of my nicknames is the Secret Keeper, love." He ruffled her bright hair with affection. They were far from lovers, companions would be the closest word that would still not fully describe what they were to each other. Chris shook his head and muttered under his breath, "I wonder what kind of punishment awaits me for interfering with everything..."

Mila seemed to have heard, "Chris," she took one step sideways and forced him to make eye contact, "tell me what you are, a demon? A mage? Or an angel?"

"Mila, he gripped her shoulder with one hand," a hint of sadness tainted his smile, "there are...things about me you are better off not knowing. Laws that even I must obey that I can't explain," he knew she was determined to shake some answers out of him this time, he tucked a strand of her hair like the leaves of autumn behind her ear and sighed, "If I cared for you any less, I would have told you everything. All I want is for you to heal, after things the slave traders have done. You can stay by my side for as long as you please, you have complete freedom...and I am not going to hold onto anything."

"What if I want to stay...," Mila squeezed his hand without thinking.

Chris laughed, "you don't want to stick around the likes of me. I mean it. After the war is over, you should go back to your kind, find a lover, build a life together in the brand new world..."

Mila threw his hand abruptly, "don't tell me what I should do with my life." She turned away from him, dejected, "you have no right..."

"I'm sorry Mila...I didn't mean that..." for the first time in her eyes Chris looked vulnerable, "of course I would rather have you stay..." he opened his arms as Mila hesitated.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face against his muscular chest, inhaling his familiar scent, "fine." Her voice muffled. She hasn't forgiven him yet.

Her bright eyes widened as letters begun to appear on the scroll. Chris stretched it out before them, "This is my invention, vanishing ink," he added casually.

The same neat cursive writing appeared at the bottom of the scroll.

_Yuri Plisetsky - the King we have chosen._

"So it's been decided, looks like the Order will act soon, I need to speak with Victor and Rochelle." Chris rolled the scroll and tucked it into his hidden pocket, "Mila, don't look at me like that, you know I don't like going to bed angry...alright, this is what I have been pondering for the past few days. According to Rochelle, the city is crawling with the Lesser Ones, which nobody but Rochelle could see - "

"This means invisible spies around every corner -" Mila finished his sentence, "we need so evacuate all of the demons and anyone on our side." Her heart pounded as her fingertips went numb as her chest grew heavier. Mila felt something cold and wet drip down her neck leaving her startled. This place always gave her goosebumps, she felt like air was being robbed from her lungs by the darkness, like she was in the depth of the underworld.

"Exactly, and Victor is in a precarious position, because any of his actions could lead the young Nikiforov Mages training under his family vulnerable to Azriel and Lilith." Chris's violet candle in his hand burnt low, as he moved his finger away in time to avoid a glob of wax rolling down.

"Well. With a strategist like you behind him, I'm reassured." Mila followed him close.

"Thank you..." Chris was taken aback by those words, "you are pretty sharp yourself." He touched her head gingerly, wondering if she was still going to push him away.

She didn't.

Mila was glad that the darkness hid the crimson on her cheeks, "we should be careful what we say from here on, you never know if one of the Fallen is following us here."

"Don't worry, I am the last person the Fallen dared to come near, there are wards I put up that repels them, this house of the courtesans is actually one of the safest places from those monsters in the capital, believe it or not."

They ascended the dark stone steps making a spiral towards the trapdoor from Chris's chamber. The entrance happened to be hidden inside his closet. Mila averted her eyes and blushed each time she opened the closet filled with objects Chris used for his work as one of the most sought after courtesans of this kingdom.

There were an object to satisfy every kind of fetish.

* * *

"I see, you finally made up your mind," there was a hint of a smile in his grandfather's voice. Yura stumbled into his grandfather's cabin. He was grateful the rain hid all traces of his tears he shed. His grandfather covered his hair with a towel knowing he wanted his face hidden. He begun to dry off his mangled golden mane.

Two more flashes of lightning lit up the sky then thunder rumbled.

"Do you think he'll come back?" Everywhere ached, he felt as if someone ripped him in half and left him to bleed.

"If he does, he would follow you out of his free will," his grandfather poured tea in the background, then he said a short phrase in the demons' ancient tongue.

_Come what may..._ Yura begun to understand their mysterious language. Yura wiped his face as he sat down next to the old man on a wooden chair.

"I'm proud of you, Yuratchka," General Plisetsky touched the back of his hand with his wrinkled and callused palm from years on the battlefield, "you choose between right thing and the easy thing...Yura, I think you are ready to hear this."

Yura sipped into the comforting mint tea grown in his grandfather's backyard, his green eyes glistening, he leaned forwards.

"I'm sorry I kept this from you for so long," the formidable Mage General who taught Victor how to fight turned towards his grandson, "it's time I tell you the truth about your parents."

Yura almost dropped porcelain cup, at loss for words. He watched his grandfather's expression change into a mixture of the emotions he couldn't comprehend.

"His name is Loki, he is fearless, reckless, formerly an infamous womanizer scrutinized by mages and demon females alike. Rules of the lands don't apply to him. Some say he is a villain or a pirate, others consider him a hero. He sailed amongst many kingdoms, has friends, enemies across all corners of the earth he could reach...he also has one of the most distinct shapeshifter forms amongst their kind, a white tiger."

"You mean I-" Yura hasn't had a chance for all of this information to sink in yet. He covered his mouth one hand. Searching for Beka's comforting presence with the corner of his eyes, but only finding emptiness of the wooden cabin. He bit the base of his own thumb to stop his tears from spilling out.  _Get a grip..._ he hissed inside his mind.

"You are part shapeshifter, yes," Nicholai Plisetsky put down his cup, "after meeting your mother, Loki was a changed man. She was a tomboy, she played with swords, used to disguise as a commoner and travel to different parts of the kingdom to see what the nobles were up to, and she fought the corrupt from the dark with her own two hands. She was loved by our people. I had never seen her eyes sparkle the same way until she spoke of your father."

Yura sipped his tea in silence, clinging onto the warmth radiating from his cup.  _I wish...I had known my mother...I wish I could remember._  The truth was no matter how much he tried, he could not conjure those memories or make the blurry face of the woman who gave him life any clearer.

"As you can imagine how I reacted when your mother told me she was pregnant. I was ready to kill that man at first with my bare hands," his grandfather chuckled, "but she begged me not to tell him. She knew given her position, she could not leave her people. And right before she left this world, shortly after you were born, she told me Loki had his own people to protect...Yura, you see, sometimes demons and mages do fall in love, like your parents did. Their children were often shunned, not belonging to either worlds. Loki took the halflings under his wings. He gave them homes, shielded them from the hunting forces of the King after he declared war against the demons. He cared for them when nobody else did," Sadness flashed through his ancient blue eyes, "you are the splitting image of your mother, Yura, I had no doubt that you will take her place in the Order..."

"The Order?" Yura gazed hard at the mint leaves in his tea.

"The Order of Wisteria," his grandfather nodded, "named after your mother's favourite flower. She started the secret organization after she met your father. Amongst the members that pledged loyalty to her are commoners and nobles alike who desired peace between the demons and mages. As the King and Victor's father's influence grew, the Order operated in silence, after your mother passed away, her organization waited in the darkness. Your father and his people left this land and sailed to the south, cutting all ties with the capital as you can imagined he was heartbroken after he found out your mother was gone. She never told him that she was pregnant, because otherwise he would never leave her side. They both lived for a purpose greater than themselves. ...Loki's reputation of being a womanizer also vanished along with him."

"Why are you telling me all of this now?" Yura wasn't sure how to process all of this information yet.

"Because the Order choose you, if you wish to accept," Nikolai glanced up at his grandson and paused, "to be their future King, Yura."

Yura's grip tightened around the corner of his traveling cloak, he turned around looking to exchange a glance with Otabek like looking for his shadow. Then he remembered that Beka was gone.

"I am sorry, I kept everything from you all these years, it was to protect you. Your mother made me promise to tell you only when you are ready. The Order has a fierce battle before them, and they were anxious for the glimmer of hope that is you, Yuratchka, if you so choose...and she left you this..." his grandfather opened his palm revealing a piece of amber mounted on an intricate metal cage ending in a spike.

A Firestone.

The promise his parents made...

Yura bit his lip and ran his hand along it's smooth surface.  _Wisteria_ , he closed his eyes and conjured image of its violet bloom swinging in the wind hanging from its vines. He imagined its soft scent, and found strength in its resilience. Somehow he felt closer to his parents at that moment. The thought of the Firestone brought him back to Otabek. He pictured in secret the scene how Otabek would give him his Firestone. He fantasized about what Beka's stone would look like: round, dark, smooth, boring, but sturdy, as a bedrock that would never his side.

He never knew the aftermath of setting Beka free would be this painful, even though Beka didn't speak much, Yura craved for his presence. The pain from inside was eating him alive. That was the first of the sharp headache started, like someone was hacking his skull open with an ice pick. Yura winced for a split second, then it vanished.  _It was probably nothing,_  he dismissed it with his mind and didn't bother tell his grandfather about it.

The summer storm raged on outside as if the sky wept.

* * *

They freed each other from their clothes in the rain as fast as they could, relishing every stolen moment they had before their skin seared again in pain from their powers that rejected each other.

Victor's body shuddered, either from the coldness of the downpour or from the place on his body Yuuri's tongue had just been. He clasped his lips with his hand.

Yuuri laughed a little at Victor's state of being undone and kept on going as Victor stroked the dark and leathery wings on his back. Yuuri kneeled before him and watched him through his own dark wet locks, now plastered against his forehead. Victor asked him to be in his full demon form this time. His appearance wasn't very much different from his Demi form, with the exception of his pointed ears and more prominent canines. His demon senses sharpened ten fold as a result. He could hear the sound of Victor swallowing, and his breaths becoming sharp and uneven.

_My family accepted him..._ the selfish part of Yuuri could die of happiness right now, he smiled,  _I think we hid well enough for them to not be able to find us...if they do it certain works against having the family stamp of approval..._

Despite they are in the middle of a war, despite that either of them could perish from it at any given time. He loved the way Victor glanced at him in this form, taking every line of his body in. He groaned from the way Victor sensually touched his wings.

He then kissed every inch of Victor's body while trying to not crush him under his weight. He was a little taller in this form after all. His hands ran hungrily over the chain Victor wore on his neck with his Firestone fastened to it.  _Someday, Victor...I'll walk you through the fire._  He sucked on the pale and smooth skin on Victor's chest. He liked marking him as much as Victor enjoyed receiving his marks.

He remembered their first time, where Victor laid him on his back, and held him with such gentleness, and asking for his permission over and over, afraid that he would hurt him. His heart raced. He wasn't sure when they started switching places, but somehow it felt...right...

"...Yuuri, I'm ready for you..." Victor's face flushed as Yuuri removed both of his fingers.

Yuuri nodded, his heart beating wild, as he interlaced his fingers through Victor's long and slender ones. He kissed Victor's eyelashes, as drops of rain bounced from those beautiful silver strands. He sealed Victor's moan with his lips as his tongue explored Victor's mouth. He repositioned himself as Victor's grip tightened.

Victor bit his lip as he continued, and wave after wave of pleasure rippled through their bodies as the storm raged on and lightning accentuated Victor's silvery hair and pale complexion. Violent raindrops pounded on the earth, creating expanding circles with each point of impact. Their bodies pressed together, without any space between them, they ignored the rain and the rest of the world.

This moment belonged to them alone.

They wished time would stop.

Unbeknownst to them, their next reunion would come much sooner then they expected.

The half-angel and the demon prince, fighting on the same side.

* * *

Victor followed Yura down the passage from Chris's closet. He told him not to look at the objects inside the courtesan's closet, to his dismay, the sixteen year old scrutinized everything from top to bottom with curiosity.

Rochelle stalked behind them, she held back her silent laughter as she watched the way Victor regarded Yura with the look of an older brother mixed with the way a father looked at his son, and unsure what to to do.

They made their way to the hollow chamber deep in the earth where Chris and Mila waited. Stalactite hanging from the ceiling, illuminated by the torches in every direction.

Victor placed a warm hand on Yura's shoulder and didn't let go, until they made it towards the centre of the Secret Keeper's lair. Yura wasn't wearing his usual crimson mage attire with the matching gloves. He wore a simple set of white robes with extension of his shoulders resembling feathers and a grey shape resembling a star stitched across his chest. His father's amber hung against his heart.

They then realized the number of mages and demons alike gathered inside the cave, Chris greeted many of them like old friends.

Yura heard the sound of shuffling feet, claws, sudden sharp inhales and turn of heads as he approached the centre. He was grateful for Victor and Rochelle's warmth, next to him. His forest-green eyes searched the crowd, for the tuft of messy black hair and for his familiar broad shoulders. He gritted his teeth... _Come what may...I have to learn to be strong without you, Beka. There's so much I want to tell you..._ The sharp headache returned once again for a few seconds. Yura had to slow down his step to keep his balance. Victor's hand returned to his shoulder in a reassuring grip as Chris begun to address the Order.

Yura could almost feel his mother's loving presence with them, inside this vacuum space. His heart pounded,  _why me?_  Then he remembered his past, of not completely feeling like he belonged in the school of Nikiforov Mages, and being mocked for being the bastard child. He thought of the haflings, that his father took under his wings to give them a place called home. Slowly he begun to understand.

At last it was his turn, he felt the sound of fabrics rubbing against each other, and knees touching the floor. Yura's eyes widened as they sunk to one knee before him in unison. Victor nodded at him, with his eyes Victor told him that said:  _I believe in you._

He was trained since a young age to be a prince, and leader. With a calm voice, he addressed his people, those words came naturally for him, at last he uttered, "...in the name of the Order of Wisteria," Yura grasped every trace of strength he could muster, "let's end this war."  _Beka, come back to me...I miss you..._ The soul shattering pain begun again. He was grateful the crowd was dispersing. Chris spoke softly with a few lingering members.

"Yura, I'm proud of you," Victor wrapped an arm around his shoulder, noticing the pain on his face. Yura wanted to cling onto his robes and cry more than anything, but he held back, because he could not allow his people to see that. He was their golden glimmer of hope. His usual self would whisper a snide remark back at Victor, but he didn't. So much happened in these past few hours, that tiredness crept upon him. The pain in his head only intensified, as Victor pulled him closer, while wiping the cold sweat that now covered his forehead.

"Beka?" He whispered because he became delirious from the pain.

"Yura!" Victor's voice was the last thing he heard before blackness filled his entire being. He was glad Victor whisked him away from the faces of his new Allies. Yura fell into Victor's arms and passed out.

* * *

Yura woke up to something ice and fire at the same time. One side of his body was pressed against something warm and firm, while everywhere else felt cold, as if he was drenched in water. The pulsating pain in his head was less severe because of the coolness surrounding him.

He tried to rub his eyes with his hand but instead of his own long fingers, he felt fur instead. Yura jumped as his vision came back to focus then blurry again as hot burning drops spilled out and he didn't bother wiping them.

"Shh, Yura, it's alright," Beka held him with one arm under his knees and the other around his shoulder, his head resting on Beka's warm chest, "you are part shapeshifter, water from the Sacred lakes lessens the pain of the transformation."

"Beka!" Yura buried his head into Beka's shoulder, he heard a ripping sound as his 'hands' attempted to grip onto his friend's shoulder, he had forgotten he had claws. His arm was covered in snow like fur with black stripes.  _Am I a tiger?_  From his periphery of his eyes he could still see his own blonde locks. Suddenly he felt self conscious... _I must be hideous, stuck in the halfway form..._ "don't look at me...and sorry if I hurt you," he realized that Beka was bleeding from the warm trickle down his claws through the ripped black fabric of Beka's tunic.

Otabek shook his head, "You look magnificent, your Highness," he broke into one of his rare smiles.

"Your Highness?" Yura gazed up at him, burying the side of his cheek into his strong chest, listening to the deep rumbling of his heart. He felt home.

"I choose to follow you, Yuratchka Plisetsky, as the demon you set free," Beka tucked his golden locks behind his ear, his touch sent shivers through Yura's body, "I didn't believe there was hope amongst mages, I thought the war would never end until either the mages or the demons perished...until I met you."

Yura wished that Beka would always smile like this, carefree, while holding him close. He clumsily wiped his eyes, "tell a soul you saw me cry, I'll kick your- " heat crept up his face.

"I saw nothing," Otabek stroked his hair with affection stopping him in mid sentence. His touch soft, sending tingles down Yura's spine. Yura gazed down at his hands, they were no longer paws but back to human hands as Beka slid a band studded with black beads around his wrist.

"What's this, the Mage manacles?" Yura watched him out of the corner of his eyes, half sarcastic.

"No, this will suppress the transformation, until you learn to control your powers. No, we do not sink that low." Beka played with one of the dark beads and teased him.

"You owe me explanations," Yura pouted, as the splitting headache dulled. He wiggles out of Beka's arm as his feet touched the water that submerged him down to his waist. He then realized how long his friend must have held him for.

"Ask away," Otabek flashed him a brilliant smile, showing Yura a new side of him.

"Show me your true form," Yura glanced at him through his curtain of wet golden locks. Yura liked him better free.

"As you wish," Beka bowed, then there was a snapping sound, followed by waves disburbing pristine water.

Yura's lips parted as a magnificent centaur stood before him. Otabek's face was the same. Water drops glistened from the sun as they rolled down from his sculpted body. Yura blushed and turned away.

"This was my most recent form. My head is still hurting from the riddles those centaurs made me solve before they'd let me see that damn sword," his dark eyebrows furled and unfurled. He looked like he was in pain from reliving cringe worthy memories, he paused and faced Yura, "What else do you want me to be?" A few strands of his dark locks swept before his dark eyes.

"What?"

"I can be anything you want me to be," Wind swept Otabek's hair sideways, Yura, I am a Universal."

"Fine, a dragon," Yura crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. A Universal was the rarest form of shapeshifter. Some say they were the descendant of the Greater Demons themselves.

_Splash!_

Yura shielded his with both arms in front of him, then he clutched his chest, his heart racing, "fuck...Beka, you are amazing!"

A dark dragon stretched his leathery wings towards the sky, then folded them again as he curved his tail around his King and splashed water on him playfully. Though menacing, Yura couldn't help but pick up a hint of a smile behind Otabek's black irises.

"Show me what I'm suppose to look like," Yura demanded.

With a snapping sound, a white tiger with green eyes and black stripes stood before him.

Otabek in his tiger form leapt into the water, picked him up by his collar, like the way mother tigers carried their cubs and left him lying on his back on the grass. The tiger nuzzled his neck and licked his face with affection, "Beka, that tickles," laughter escaped Yura's throat, "will you teach me how to be a shapeshifter?"

Otabek changed back to his human form, his faced hovered close to Yura's while his hands pinned his friend to the ground, "yes Master." He teased Yura from the previous chapter of their lives. His face flushed as he realized how closed their lips were.

Otabek jumped off him, "sorry..."

Yura wished he didn't.

He thought he saw a hint of red on his friend's cheeks, he didn't know the stoic demon who hardly ever smiled could look like that. His heart wouldn't stop fluttering. He wondered if Beka knew what he did in the rain as he felt heat rising onto his own pale cheeks.

"Beka what took you so long," Yura laid into the grass, resting his head on one arm turning towards his friend while watching the clouds past by, trying to make sense of their shapes.

"I went to get you this," Otabek picked up a sword from ten feet away.

Yura sat up as he glanced at the white sheath the same colour as moonlight.

" _'To be wielded by one who stood with one foot in the darkness and one foot in the light'_ ," Otabek read the inscription on the sheath written in the demons' ancient language.

Yura closed his hand around its pale grip and unsheathed the sword, the sunlight reflecting from its blade making him squint. Its weight heavy, carvings of runes covered its blade interspersed with the phases of the moon.

It felt like any other sword.

Yura sheathed it again and sighed, "I don't think it's meant for me."

Otabek shrugged, "I guess we would have to search for its master next." He swung the Sword of the Half Moon around his back as he stretched out a hand to help pull his friend up. He has a sickening look on his face, before Yura asked what was wrong, he placed his palm over his face, "I still have nightmare from conversations with the centaurs, they made me solve riddles to answer the simplest questions. They...would never get anything done. I wasn't going to stick around for them to discover that I was an Universal and an impostor. Those creatures are impossible...their princess seemed to be...fond of me, she...let me escape..."

Yura beamed at him with longing mixed with pride, "Beka, let's go home," Yura pulled himself up with Beka's hand.

When he entered the city walls, he had a white sword on his back and a sleeping cat curled up against his chest.

* * *

**Author's notes:**

I am grateful that I took a break from writing this story in order to plan a few things, now I feel refreshed & inspired to continue.

There you go, Otabek's true form.

I love writing Chris, the mysterious, wise and timeless...he is becoming my favourite character in this story after Yuuri.

Brace yourself for the next chapter (enough of sitting, talking, and planning), now the action begins.

**Chapter 11: Starfire**

"Victor, I command you to personally burn these demon loving traitors before the crowd."

xoxo

-A

<https://antarespromise.tumblr.com/>

 


	11. Half Moon

"You are sleeping together?! This whole time, " Yura's exasperated voice reverberated the secret chamber from Chris's room, "and you never told me, fuck you, Victor. I saw you like you my...big brother, I spilled my guts to you and you -" the white cat with tail and ears dipped in grey rubbed Yura's leg for attention, stopping him in mid sentence. Yura paused to pick him up.

Chris smirked as he couldn't help but linger to hear the rest of this conversation and to watch Victor's priceless expression.

Yuuri wrapped a protective arm around Victor's lower back and grinned, "yea, we are." Without shame, embarrassment or anything to hide. He fingered the thin chain around Victor's neck with his other gloved hand until his dark sapphire Firestone gleamed from the reflection of the dim torchlights.

Victor wondered when Yuuri's shyness left him. This bold and confident side of Yuuri drove him over the edge.

"Hey, watch where your hand is going, you pig," Yura bared his teeth, fiercely protective of Victor all of a sudden like a mother tiger guarding its cub.

Chris and Mila gazed at each other and broke into silent laughter.

Victor's buried his face into his palm, while leaning onto the comforting warmth of Yuuri's body.

With a snapping sound the cat in Yura's arms transformed into a dark haired young man who sank to one knee before Yuuri, "please forgive Yura's rudeness, my Prince...and congratulations, for finding someone to entrust with your Firestone."

"Please stand up...and...thank you," Yuuri flashed a beautiful smile that made Victor crave for the rain now more than ever, "call me Yuuri, I am not a fan of the formalities -"

"Hey, Otabek, you traitor!" Yura tugged on Beka's sleeve, "we are out of here, stupid Victor...stupid demon pig..."

Otabek shot Yuuri one more apologetic look.

Yuuri responded with one more amused grin, "he really cares about you," he remarked, his hand never leaving Victor's back.

"Yea, he is the closest thing to my family to me," Victor was grateful for this moment of interruption from meetings after meetings.

Yuuri pouted.

"You  _are_  my family, Yuuri, I don't have to tell you that...it's a given," Victor felt their roles were reversed somehow. Yuuri used to be the shy one, now he was glad that the dim light hid the red creeping up his pale cheeks.

"What if I like hearing it," Yuuri teased him as his hand slid lower in the dark.

That underground cave became the temporary headquarters of the Order of Wisteria, there were multiple secret passages that led to outside of the city walls. The Order and the demons have been meeting here, planning the next move.

Chris confessed to missing the peace and quiet of his underground lair. All of the gathering wore him out. He missed the bed he and Mila shared.

The pale shield of the Sword of the Half Moon laid on the centre of the stone table. Written on its hilt were the letters in the demons' language: "to be wielded by one who stood with one foot in the darkness and one foot in light. Nobody seemed to be able to awaken it from its eternal slumber.

* * *

"I heard that my nephew Yurachka was...what's that word I'm looking for...sympathetic towards demons," the King summoned Victor. The King leaned back in his throne clad in emerald, matching the color of his eyes. He watched Victor from his throne as he crossed and uncrossed his legs, "what do you make of it? You are close to him, as I recall." He had sharp forest green eyes the same shade as Yura's.

Victor regarded the King the same way he always did, even after he found out from his father's letter that Lilith took over his body. Lilith, the mysterious Fallen that started everything, including killing Yuuri's parents and starting the war, "he is at that age you know, of moodiness, of confusion, of curiosity...I haven't heard him speak ill of the Kingdom or of support for the demons." He wished he could dove his sword straight into Lilith's heart. But he knew, that would be futile, because Lilith was already a spirit. Destroying the King's body meant Lilith will simply find another host. Only the the sacred swords in the hands of their rightful masters could destroy him. The Order had two in their hands now, but no word of their masters, "if I may use colloquial language, I think it's teenage angst more than anything."

A ray of light shone through the window of the grand castle with forty feet ceilings, casting spots of light on the ground. Victor and the King appear small in comparison of the grandness of the great hall. Victor did his best to not change his demeanor after knowing who the King was from that letter that changed everything.

The King stroked his golden beard and nodded, "that's good, thank you for keeping him out of trouble."

"Anything," Victor knelt before him, "your Majesty."

"How long have you been my guard for?" The King changed the topic.

"Just over ten years," in his mind, he remembered defeating all of the Kingdom's finest swordsmen at the age of seventeen and catching the eye of the King himself and being summoned to become his personal guard.

"Time flies, don't you agree?" Victor was noticing lines around the corner of the King's eyes.

Victor nodded.

"I have a task for you, of great honor," the King leaned forwards, "as we speak, our armies are rounding up the demon loving traitors, I want you to personally burn them in front of the crowd, three days from now."

It took all of his determination to stop himself from shaking. A flash of white hot rage rippled through his body, his knuckles pale from the grip on his sword, "yes, your Majesty."

_Three days._

His crimson robes rumpled near his heart from his tight clenched fist, everything the Order and the demons planned would now be thrown out of the window. Their timeline was in the next month or so to slip their forces out of the capital without notice, while the search for the Sacred Swords and their masters continued. But he realized that they did not have the luxury of time, three days was all they had.

He could not confront Lilith and Azriel, living within the King and his father, directly, not before the three sacred swords and their Masters gathered. Not before August passes and the young mages return home to their families for two weeks in September. Taking them hostage would be easy for Azriel in his father's body. He realized the meaning in his father's letter of entrusting the Nikiforov mages in his hands. As much as he wanted to join Yuuri and Yura in the battle ahead, he had his own responsibilities. He had his own people to protect. He thought of the bright eyes of the young mages studying under his family's name who travelled from all corners of the Kingdoms to refine their powers to their full potential. The youngest of them were ten years old. He couldn't bear to let anything happen to them.

He had to stall for time.

* * *

"They are changing," Rochelle's brilliant gold eyes met Victor's.

"What do you mean?" He let her cold fingers close around his so he could see the city from their balcony through her eyes. She had the powers to see Angels, which also meant she could see the Fallen as well.

Victor's shoulder stiffened, nausea washed over him, followed by a wave of admiration for the brave girl before him, who willingly married to him for the purpose of peace, because her powers were needed inside the city walls.

If he had never met Yuuri, and Rochelle was arranged to marry him, he wondered if he could learn to love her.

The answer was: it would not be difficult. Victor accepted long ago that his future and his marriage wasn't up to him given his position and bearing the Nikiforov name. Rochelle and him were birds of the same feather. Both named the most powerful swordsman of their respective kingdoms, both grew up with whispers that they had no hint of powers. Amidst the politics and the turmoils within the castle walls, he was glad he had a friend, whom he he trusted with his life.

Many of those ugly creatures with mangled wings stuck at wrong angles trod alongside people in the marketplace in the distance. Their form more solid than Victor remembered the last time Rochelle showed them to him with her powers. Since his realization from his father's letter that his mother was an angel, he found himself sometimes able to catch glimpses of the Fallen roaming the city when he squinted. He had never gotten over the shock that those creatures were angel once, who fell prey to the seductive whispers of Lilith and Azriel. He didn't want to know how they manipulated the angels to betrayed the skies, to lose their forms, and to feed on the decaying flesh of the dead mage and demons alike to sustain themselves.

There were plenty of bodies going around, the war fuelled that supply.

Victor watched with horror as one of the Fallen followed a tall man in the marketplace eyeing the back of his neck with a twisted lopsided grin. Then it hooked its fingers around the man's muscular shoulders. Victor sharply inhaled as he watched the Fallen disappear into his body.

He watched then man's shoulders jerk a few times involuntarily. His first few steps were awkward, with the same arm and leg swinging in unison. Then he adapted and blended right into the crowd.

"They are taking over the bodies of mages and humans, they become capable of that as they grow more powerful..." the tip of Victor's fingertips turned white from his grip on Rochelle's hand, then he released the pressure afraid he would hurt her. As soon as their skin broke contact, the Fallen crawling in the city disappeared from his view. Their faint presence reappeared as he searched deep within himself for the part of him that originated from the Skies.

Rochelle nodded, her face solemn, "more and more of this city is under their control."

"They are eventually going to take over the King's army," Victor gripped onto the white stone lining their balcony, "I wish...I could see them better."

_I wish I could connect better with my powers...I wish there was someone to teach me how._  His powers had awoken two years ago in a moment of weakness, when Yuuri didn't show up as he promised. He remembered the lightning erupting from his hands kissing the sky, the electric feeling pulsating through his veins. Sometimes he felt as if he could reach out and direct that power, but as soon as he tried the threads of magic seemed to escape his grasp.

He had only 'met' his mother weeks ago, in the form of a marble statue that Azriel made of her. That was the only sane part of him. His mother was the only angel who showed kindness towards Azriel before she gave up the skies for Victor's father, before Azriel became a Fallen.

Rochelle read his mind, she smiled and turned towards him, "let me introduce to an old friend of mine...he is...eccentric, but I think he'd be happy to help us."

* * *

"Ah, Victor Nikiforov, we meet at last," Victor followed Rochelle through the ancient wooden door into a shop with curiosity. He glanced at the older man behind the counters and a diagonal scar across his face with curious eyes. Yakov expected him.

There were glass flasks and vials littered throughout the small, dim space with the faded sign outside with the words "Yakov's Apothecary" carved into the weathered wood. It was the place that mothers warn their children about not venturing alone into. Yakov looked like someone who meant business.

Yakov hobbled towards him from the other side of the counter to as he pulled Rochelle an embrace, "staying out of trouble, I hope?" His serious face broke into a wide grin. Victor gazed down at him and realized he had one wooden leg.

"Relatively speaking," Rochelle giggled as Yakov patted her on the back where one long dark red braid hung towards one side, "I have known Yakov since he was..." then she stopped in mid sentence choosing different set of words, "I have know Yakov for a long time."

"Since I was still an angel, you mean," Yakov let out a dry laugh, Victor wondered how many secrets was hidden through the folds of his skin, "it's alright Rochelle, I owe his mother my life." He limped towards the door of the shop and locked it and turned to face Victor sideways, "this is what happens when an angel is exiled from the Northern Peaks."

Victor didn't want to ask the reason Yakov lost his wings and were pushed from the peaks to live his remaining lifespan as a human.

"Fascinating," Yakov mumbled to himself as he regarded Victor, "you look nothing like your mother, but Starfire burns strong within you."

"Starfire?" Rochelle rested her hand on her chin.

"I gave your mother's powers that name, when she took care of me after my fall," Yakov reached towards Victor until he felt a few rough fingers on his forehead, "you have two streams of very different magic mixing and battling within you, I sense conflict, uncertainty."

_That's why,_  Victor realized, even though his powers had awoken, even though he could conjure the lightning from the skies to the palm of his hands that almost set an entire field on fire, he still could not control it fully. My magic had different properties from the Mages... _that's why...nobody here could teach me even if they tried._ Within weeks, pieces of Victor's past coalesced and clicked together as a piece of puzzle.

"Our kind rarely gave up the skies for the earth," Yakov lowered his scarred hand onto the wooden table filled with flasks and vials. He shook his hand, "the angel Elders were ignorant fools, who turned a blind eye to the world below, I am growing tired of watching the Fallen run rampant...so took the matter into my own hands...but look where it landed me. Anyways, if you don't mind...I can show you how to control your magic."

Victor nodded, "thank you, I mean it."

Yakov shook his head, "your mother found me when they cut off my wings and threw me from the Northern Peaks and left me to die. She refused to give up on me when I gave up on myself..."

The white marble statues Azriel made of his mother flashed before his mind.  _I wish I knew you..._ a twinge of pain radiated through his body.  _I wish I had known you both._  He thought of his father, who sacrificed himself in order to find Azriel's weakness by willingly giving up his body. His father's soul was now wavering.

"Starfire, remember Victor, it's a choice," Yakov picked up a vial of grey whirling liquid from his desk and scrutinized its purity.

"A choice?"

"There is always a choice, if you focus your mind to it," Yakov put the vial down and searched amongst the rows of jars labeled in another language, "you could fuel it with hatred and burn the target to ashes, or with the opposite of hatred and the fire will heal. Conjure what you want your fire to be, and it will obey." He opened the jar he was looking for and added a pinch of powder into the vial with a tiny silver spoon, "you can use it to create or destroy, it's a double edged sword...you could use its rawest form, like lightning to wipe out everything in its path, or you could use it to summon rain that heals...It's a frustrating kind of magic inpregnanted with duality, light and dark, creation and destruction..."

Victor watched the liquid turn pitch black, his heart pounding.

"Drink this, it will suppress your mage powers so you could master Starfire faster," He handed the vial to him.

_Three days,_  his fingers wrapped around the tiny vial containing liquid that resembled death. He didn't have a choice, he brought the vial to his lips and Yakov watched his Adam's apple move as he swallowed.  _It tasted like death too._  He trusted Rochelle with his life, hence he would take his chance.

"Don't worry, even though I specialize in poison, you are her son, I would never even dream of harming you..." Yakov chuckled, "I could kill the entire city if I wanted by the way."

"That's real comforting," Rochelle raised an eyebrow and shook her head before she smiled at her old friend.

* * *

Victor hardly slept for the past three days, he had only gone to rest when Rochelle insisted.

She also made him sleep in their bed, while she fell asleep on the futon in the next room where Victor usually stayed. Inside the castle they pretended to be blissful newlyweds. They never consummated their marriage, but promised to set each other free when the war is over. Victor looked forward to the day that Rochelle could be free to find the one who only had the eyes for her. She deserved that happiness.

Victor pulled on the stiff vermilion uniform of the Nikiforov mages and fastened the sheath of his sword. Next to his sword, was the second Sacred Sword that Sara stole from the angels. That sword was stained with blood of countless angels, he wondered if that was the same one they used to cut off Yakov's wings when they ordered him to be exiled for his research in the poisions. Victor shuddered at the thoughts of angels committing such cruel acts. The rest of the morning passed by like a blur.

Victor unmounted from his horse as the crowd parted to make space for him. He rehearsed plan A, B, C, and D in his head over again and tightened the grip on the reins. His blue-green eyes narrowed as he scanned across the crowd that gathered to watch the execution, to be spectators of others' suffering and death. He sighed as the King's guards surrounded the stage in the middle of the square by the marketplace clad in their armour from head to toe. He handed the reins of his horse to another red clad Mage. His palms clammy as the steps creaked from underneath him. He scanned the fifteen people chained to stakes with a heavy heart. He could hardly breathe as his eyes stopped at the furthest prisoner. An old man with salt and pepper beard.  _They really have done it this time._   _Yura would never forgive me if anything was to happen to his grandfather._

The crowd watched, some with fear, some with anticipation, others with vindictive eyes.  _This must have been what Yuuri have seen, on that day my father was ordered to execute his parents..._ he ached for Yuuri even now as he imagined him as a ten year old boy, inconspicuous in the crowd, with nobody noticing his trembling lips and hot drops of tears that would not stop.

The mage next to him begun to read the list of names, "Jean Jaques Leroy, Guang Hong Ji, Nicolai Plisetsky, Leo de la iglesia, Emil Nekola...you are condemned to death for treason...in the name of the King."

Victor could only hear his words in bits and pieces. He knew somewhere Azriel is watching, through this father's eyes. The Order needed someone to be on the inside. For the past three days, the member of the Order of Wisteria didn't sleep either, they were evacuating the capital, through the secret passage below the house of the courtesans where Chris resided. Victor could only hear the sound of his own harsh and uneven breaths. He felt as if he was going to drown.

The mage next to him finished reading and lowered the scroll.

All eyes were on him.

He had been through countless battles, of course fear was a regular part of him, but this felt different. He was ordered to execute the innocent, Yura's grandfather included. General Plisetsky taught him how to fight, until he became the best swordsman in this Kingdom. This was an order he could not disobey without giving away his cover. This, he knew, was the King's way of testing him. The King, or Lilith, isn't stupid.

_Starfire...it is what you want it to be...infuse it with hatred, and it would destroy, but the opposite of hatred, it heals..._ he played Yakov's words over and over as he conjured the powers he could not yet understand. The crowd held their breaths as Victor stepped forwards, closer to the fifteen wooden stakes with piles of hay at the prisoners' feet.

The nearest prisoner to him was tall and muscular, with dark hair and piercing blue eyes, he shot Victor a look of pure hatred while the chains bit into his wrists. He was one of the Order members that Victor had never met.

_Jean Jaques Leroy_ , Victor remembered his name. His family was one of the nobles that supported the Order. They provided the funds for Chris to sneak demons towards the Northern Kingdom, where Rochelle's father ruled, and the last place where demons could walk free.

_If only I could tell them, that I am on your side,_  Victor's fingers dug into his palm.  _My name will forever go down in history as a mass murder._

He closed his eyes as he opened his palm, clouds gathered above, blanketing the sun. White lightning connected from the sky to his palms. After he drank Yakov's concoction, summoning Starfire did become easier. The crowd shuffled back in unison, afraid that lighting would burn them as well. He clung to every single one of Yakov's words... _Infuse your magic with the opposite of hate..._

_There always was a choice..._

A singular image flashed before his mind, the first night when he met Yuuri. He grasped onto it with his entire being as if it was a last tendril of hope. He could picture in his mind's eye Yuuri sitting next to him under the stars as Yuuri put his hand into the fire and grinned to show him that he didn't burn. That was the moment that Victor fell for him. He felt the quality of the white fire in his palm change, from blazing heat into a gentle coolness like the breeze by the ocean. His heart was almost stopped.  _The opposite of hate..._

"Get on with it," JJ spat at him.

_I'm sorry..._ Victor didn't get out of the way, he couldn't even meet Yura's grandfather's eyes. He lowered the fire, white as starlight into the hay at their feet. Wind sent his silvery locks into the air, fanning the flame. JJ, who was the closest to him shut his eyes. The white fire consumed the hay and begun to spread. Tongues of flame licking closer and closer towards JJ's feet, as the hay crackled.

Victor could only focus on that one moment, remembering the scents, the warmth of the fire, and all of the emotions that Yuuri and awoken within him. He purged all of the hatred from his mind. He imagined Yuuri's hand, untouched by the fire, his enchanting smile laced with innocent mischief. JJ's eyes widened from surprise as the flames swallowed his feet, Victor had to suppress his own smile as waves of relief washed over him.

Because his Starfire didn't burn.

Yuuri gave him the power of that choice.

Suddenly a pair of dark wings and a flash of silver sword shot through the air.

It was like a dance, as Yuuri and Victor's swords clashed on the wooden platform. Victor couldn't control the sense of pride swelling inside of him because of how skilled Yuuri had become. Even though they were pretending to fight each other before the crowd, they knew each other's moves by heart.

Victor was the one who taught Yuuri how to use the sword. He insisted because Yuuri was picked on by the villagers and accused time and time again for crimes he never commit when they first met. Because people were naive, they rejected and feared anything that was different. Yuuri was so small back then. At fifteen, he was skinny, with bright brown eyes and messy black hair. Demons large and small flocked towards him, bearing gifts, saving him from harm's way. He was he boy loved by demons.

Victor remembered how quick Yuuri learnt, as he picked up the sword for the first time. He wasn't easy on Yuuri. He made him run until his lungs were on fire and he couldn't speak full sentences. Victor caught himself blushing the first time he put his hands on either side of Yuuri's hips to correct his stance. Soon after that he shook the forbidden thoughts away because Yuuri was underage, he'd never act on those impulses or without Yuuri's permission.

Life was simple back then.

Of course as soon as Yuuri turned eighteen, three years since they met, he asked for it. Victor lost complete control. Yuuri was no longer the skinny boy, every line of his lean muscles and sculpted shoulders made Victor ache with want.

Yuuri gave him his first time, on a night that he could never forget. Victor watched Yuuri's transformation from a shy boy loved by demons for reasons unknown, to a young man with bursts of courage and eyes only for him.

Their skin didn't burn when they touched back then. Victor wasn't the half angel and Yuuri wasn't aware that he was the demon prince.

They were two beings that loved each other.

That was all.

Victor wondered... _one day, maybe they could go back to that place. One day..._

With every movement and the clank sound of their swords meeting, Yuuri's dark eyes transfixed onto his that said only one thing that they didn't need words for:  _I love you._

_I fucking love you too,_  Victor answered in silence, feeling Yuuri's Firestone's smooth surface against his naked skin. He leapt forwards with lightning speed, and Yuuri didn't have enough time to retreat, but he blocked Victor's attack with the hilt of his sword with the other hand until their faces were dangerously close. Victor felt Yuuri's breaths on his cheek and on his hands. Victor wanted those hands all over him. He whispered right before Yuuri pushed his weight off him, "Yuuri, I can make it rain..."

Yuuri leapt back, his lips shaped like an O, his eyes filled with desire and longing. He wanted him too. His crimson eyes said,  _meet you in the rain...I can't wait._

The crowd screamed at the sight of the demon and begun to flee in every direction. A large raven shot through the air, within his beak, a giant ring filled with keys. With a snapping sound, Phichit transformed and begun to free the prisoners, as he dodged a golden flash of the attack from the nearest mage. JJ's chains fell into the cold white fire below.

Celestino the demon general who once stood by Yuuri's late father, clad in tunic the same colour as the glacier joined them on the stage, as ice erupted from his palms. When that ice coated the chains, they shattered. He freed Yuri's grandfather, who accepted the extra sword and joined the battle. He was once upon a time a fierce general feared by all of the kingdom's enemies, but then he was placed under house arrest ordered by the king for being a 'demon loving lunatic'.

Despite their successes, the King's guards methodically surrounded each of them, swards drawn, and hands charging with magic ready to turn their invaders into ashes. Celestino frowned as the sword made of the ice he conjured snapped in half.

Five of the prisoners were free now. Victor's fire lit up half of the platform.

Out of corner of his eyes, Victor saw Phichit, JJ and Celestino struggle, as fatigue caught up with him, he pretended to recover on one knee, panting. This gave Yuuri the cue to join the others.

With one finger, Yuuri melted the chains bounding the hands of a brown haired young man named Leo, another noble that had been purchasing demons as slaves and setting them free for the past ten years. Leo nodded thanks, as he slipped away into the crowd.

The commoners screamed, and some fell as they dashed as fast as they could from the pandemonium, pushing and shoving past each other's shoulders. Somewhere in the distance a child let out a desperate cry.  _This could have been the same scene where Yuuri's parents were murdered, except...no help came back then,_ Victor thought as his strength returned.

Magic flowed thick in air, of ice and fire, of mage and demon. The stage was filled with claws, feathers as the lesser demons that loved Yuuri followed him into battle.

Victor froze as he saw the crowd stirring, he squinted because after connecting to his angel powers since training with Yakov, he was capable of catching glimpses of the Lesser Ones that only Rochelle could see. His stomach turned as he watched those hellish creatures merged with the bodies of the bystanders. Some of them charged forwards, walking in a strange gait, others searched the ground for rocks and anything they could use as a weapon. The sheer number of them were frightening, they climbed the stages and towards the demons and the members of the Order fighting side by side.

Yuuri hesitated for a second, before knocking the sword out of the hand of one of the possessed bystander. He didn't want to kill the innocent, but their numbers had been overwhelming. He watched as a woman climbed on to the stage and sank her teeth into the neck of one of the prisoners. Guang Hong let out a cry of pain as fresh blood trickled down his neck. Yuuri pivoted his foot and charged in Guang Hong's direction.

The fleeing crowd gasped as a large shadow suddenly followed by wingbeats suddenly descended.

The phoenix screeched a raucous battlecry as it spiralled down, causing a few of the possessed to stumble off the stage.

Then time stopped before the woman at the nape of Guang Hong's neck could drive the knife in her hand into his side.

Yuri leapt off Otabek's back of his phoenix form and knocked the knife from the her hand and pushed her away. Beads of sweat rolled down his cheeks. Even though he was a prodigy with powers to stop time, amidst the chaos, amidst the number of people and the air whirling, buzzing with magic, he could not hold the reins of time for long. His heart heavy, as he glanced around him, the Fallen that took over the bodies of the commoners were stopped in their tracks. There were too many of them. Their sheer number could maul the members of the Orders and the prisoners in pieces within moments. Otabek stayed close by his side, ready to rip the enemy in half with his beak if they dared to approach.

Yura moved as fast as he could, fumbling with the keys that Phichit dropped onto the stage and freed the remaining prisoners. His vision begun to blur, he knew that his powers were at his limits. His insides twisted as he watched the elaborate plan between the demons and the Order crumble. Otabek picked him up by his collar with his beak and swung him onto his back, protecting him as Yura let go of the flow of time as his power waned. He did his best...but his best didn't seem to be good enough. He buried his face into Otabek's violet feathers as they soared higher, his eyes stinging.

Suddenly from above, Yura caught a glimpse of a demon's bright red hair and pointed ears.

"Mila, stand behind me," Chris shouted amidst the chaos, of course he always knew where she was. He would protect her with his life. He pulled out the white sword from its hilt with one swift motion. He regarded it like meeting an old friend.

Suddenly she understood.

Mila squinted her eyes from the brightness of the glowing runes coming to life under Chris's touch. Her heart pounded inside her chest as she watched the power of the legendary Sword of the Half Moon awaken at the hand of its rightful Master. The blue-white glow of the runes on blade coalesced together until the entire sword was ablaze, like the moonlight on a dark cloudless night.

Mila and Chris stood back to back, fire glowed from her palms, protecting him from the invisible fallen angels closing in from every direction. She couldn't see them, but she could sense the air, dense from their reeking breaths of decay. Hot blood pulsates through her veins, she felt the back of her spine tingling as she watched Chris with her jaws parted.

An ocean of white fire, outshining the sun swept through the entire city, sending a wave of heat through Mila's body, she squinted her bellflower eyes and shielded her face with one hand, strands of hair whipping around her face.

Surrounding them, she heard silent screams of the Lesser Ones dissipating into nothingness as they were forced out of the commoners' bodies.

"I am going to punished for this," Chris mumbled before he sank onto one knee, supporting himself by the Sacred Sword, his eyes hazy, as he drifted in and out of consciousness from the sheer amount of magic consumed by wielding the Sword of Half Moon. Mila wrapped his arm around her shoulder and sheathed the pale sword with her other hand.

"You are...strong, my flower," in Chris's delirious state the only thing he could focus on was the brightness of her hair and her azure eyes.

"Don't call me that, I am not that fragile," in addition to her worried expression, Chris saw a hint of a smile.

Taking full advantage of the chaos, Mila whisked Chris onto the black horse she prepared, in the stables behind an obscure inn. She pulled the hood of her traveling cloak over her pointed demon ears and allowed Chris to lean back onto her shoulders. Before she left the city, with Chris in her arms seated in front of her, she threw the fake demon manacles she wore around her wrists onto the ground. Out of the corner of the eyes she watched the members of the Order disappear, along with the prisoners.

A wave of pride washed over her.

_Victor, you really did it...good luck..._

* * *

Still recovering from shock, at the unexpected aid from the Legendary sword and its Master, Yura watched as the prisoners, demons and member of the Order of Wisteria escape. He saw his grandfather's horse disappearing into the forest. He could finally breathe.

"Lilith and Azriel," his eyes forest green eyes narrowed from the back of the phoenix with orange and violet feathers and golden eyes, "In the name of the Order..." Yura threw a branch of Wisteria onto the execution stage now set ablaze, "I declare war." He knew they were watching from somewhere. He knew he was walking down the path of no return. Clad in a silvery cloak with a grey four pointed star on his chest, and shoulder pieces resembling feathers, he left the red uniform of the Nikiforov mages behind forever.

The wind under Otabek's magnificent wings sent Yura's hair flying. His heart raced as he clung to Beka's warmth. He knew in the demon world it was taboo for a to allow a mage ride on the demons' back, because shapeshifters were not animals. But at same time, Yura wasn't only a mage, he was a shapeshifter as well. For all of his life, he knew he didn't belong with the mages, and at last he knew the reason.

They soared higher, he pressed his face against the nape of Otabek's neck while clinging onto his plumage the color of clouds at sunset. The castle became smaller and smaller, the burning execution stage now only a tiny wisp of smoke. They flew above the forest where his grandfather lived, where smoke would never rise his chimney again.

They flew beyond the clouds.

They were heading south from here, towards the ocean, where the infamous pirate named Loki, who also turned into a white tiger, roamed with his fleet. Yura headed that way to find his father, who didn't know of his existence because his mother insisted. Loki loved freedom, while his mother had people she had to protect. Around his neck, Yura wore his fathers amber Firestone, his parents' promise of a future where demons and mages walked amongst each other, free.

* * *

Otabek started a fire inside the cave they found to rest for the night. Yura wolfed down the dried meats and berries Yuuri packed for them, and chased it with fresh water from the stream. They were nothing like the food within the castle, but delicious in a raw and honest way. "Stupid demon pig..." Yura mumbled.

Otabek laughed a little.

Fatigue caught up to him, as Yura laid down on top of a pile of leaves Beka prepared, his eyelids heavy. He rested his head using his own forearm as a pillow, "Beka, come here."

Otabek raised one eye brow, "I am already here." He rested on his back two feet away from Yura, becoming more aware of him all of a sudden as he turned to face him.

"I'm cold," a few strands of golden hair fell across his eyes, Yura brushed them out of the way. He edged closer until his forehead rested against Otabek's chin and his chest. He grabbed Otabek's arm and draped it around his own waist and mumbled into the black fabric of his friend's tunic, "better."

Otabek was petrified for a second. There were not many times he felt scared in his life, but this was something entirely different. He couldn't stop the heat rising from his face or the wild beating of his heart. He was afraid Yura might hear the thumping inside his chest.

Then before he could control himself, there was a snapping sound and his human form disappeared.

Yura's green eyes widened, then he clutched his stomach, unable to contain his laughter, "what was that for?" He reached out to tickle the fur of the tiny grey mouse in front of him.

Otabek let out a squeak and blinked before changing back to his human form again hoping with desperation that his blush went away by now. He put on his best stoic expression that Yura sometimes fondly called 'resting bitch face', "I'll go...get more leaves," he finished lamely and exited the cave.

His pace quickened, he kicked himself inside.  _What was that? I am fierce, I was trained to be a warrior...I am an Universal for fuck's sake, of all forms I can't believe I spontaneous turned into...that..._ He begun to run, hoping that it would distract him from the thoughts that made his heart race. He transformed into a wolf with blue eyes and lethal claws, then a grizzly bear, followed by a snowy owl with predatory eyes and soundless wings.

At last he found himself as a white tiger with forest green eyes as he slowed his pace.

_Yura, damnit...you'll be the end of me._

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

I wanted to end this chapter on a happy note. That last scene was my shout out to Nezumi (from No. 6) he is one of my favorite characters of all time, who's yours?

A clarification, Yura is the future King of the capital that the Order have chosen, while Yuuri is the demon prince. There was no coronation ceremony recognizing him as the King of the demons, therefore he is still referred to as the demon prince.

This chapter was difficult to write, it's resembles reeling in all the threads together from a spider web.

Hope you enjoyed it & let me know, comments are like gifts. :) 

xoxo

-A

<https://antarespromise.tumblr.com/>

My medical AU (if you want to read the opposite of fantasy): [There Is](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11398311/chapters/25528047)

 


	12. All Just Rain

Otabek, in his Phoenix form with the plumage the color of sunset flew during the day, with Yura on his back. The journey to the south by conventional methods could take a month on horseback. But allied with the most powerful shapeshifter of the Kingdom, Otabek told Yura he could get him there in two weeks.

Yura's father had many names: the White Tiger of the South, the Pirate, Loki the Rogue. Yura's grandfather told him that before his parents met, his father was an infamous womanizer hunted by demon and mage females alike. But ever since he met Yura's mother, that name perished. According to Celestino and Mari, the final sword was last seen in the South. Loki had his troupe of followers fleets. He was not a self proclaimed king or anything, but not even the capital dared to touch him. For years there were little contact between Loki and the demons. Yura knew little about his real father, other than that he took the Halflings that belonged to neither the world of mages nor the demons under his wings. Halflings like himself.

They landed by a lake without a visible edge. The wind from early September with a hint of coolness swayed the cattail in ripples.

"This is it...the nearest sacred lake we are going to come cross for a while...You ready?" Otabek watched Yura removed the string of dark beads from his wrist, prevented him from changing to the white tiger spontaneously. When the powers of a shapeshifter awaken at first, they could be unstable or become stuck in their halfway form.

Yura nodded as he took a deep breath, he avoided Otabek's gaze as he recalled waking up after being stuck in his halfway form in the Otabek's arms in the middle of a lake.

"Here, for reference," with a snapping sound, Otabek changed into a white tiger with forest green eyes.

Yura's marvelled at the Universal before him. He closed his eyes and searched deep within himself. He clasped his forehead from the throbbing headache, which was a normal part for the shapeshifter's awakening. He pushed past the reins of time within his mind. Those colourful threads were familiar, within his grasp. He was trained by the Nikiforov family as a mage to become the master of time, many called him a prodigy, but becoming a shapeshifter felt foreign. His eyes opened like slits to let enough light through to see Otabek before him in his own form, beautiful, fierce, majestic.

Beads of perspiration rolled of his forehead from concentration.  _Beka, I'll make you proud._  He dug deeper inside himself, opened up a part that he never knew. Suddenly, searing pain erupted from all of the pores of his body. Change was painful. This was the reason when demons' powers were about to awaken during their teenage years they journeyed toward the sacred lakes. The water dulled that pain. Yura felt safe, because Otabek was right there next to him.  _I must master the transformation,_  he bit his lip, because that was the fastest way to prove to Loki who he was. He didn't have any time to waste, he was already labeled a traitor by the kingdom, he was walking down a path of no return. He had responsibilities. As the head of the organization his mother started, inspired by the father he never knew. He could not afford to show weakness. He was their symbol, their golden beacon of hope.  _Beka, don't take your eyes off me..._

That's when he felt every atom of his body shift, rearrange and became unstable, as if the wind was any stronger he could be scattered into pieces. Then he heard the snapping sound resembling a striking whip cracking down.

He no longer had hands, instead, he gazed down at the white fur of his own paws decorated with black stripes. His heart leapt with joy. He ran towards the water's edge, pushing past the cattails making rustling sounds and he caught at his own reflection in the turquoise water. Otabek followed him.

He saw two white tigers side by side, reflected by the crystalline water, one slightly larger than the other.  _I did it..._

Otabek nuzzled his neck.

Yura was glad he couldn't blush in this form, he closed his eyes and edged closer.

Then to his surprise Otabek licked his face with affection. His tiger heart raced and thumped against his muscular chest. He wasn't sure what that meant, in the shapeshifter world.

Then he turned to tackle the larger tiger next to him playfully. Otabek was taken by surprise as he took one step back and charged at him. They wrestled in their tiger form until Yura was ready to surrender being pinned onto the ground with his paws in the air and his belly exposed.

"Fine, you win," changing back to his human form was much easier. He laughed as Otabek also changed back, and rolled over and laid next to him on the grass, still out of breaths.

"You do learn fast, Yura," Otabek wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead.

"Of course I do," Yura smirked.

* * *

"They are safe?" Victor had no doubt in his mind, since the rescue of the Order's supporters by the demons.

Yuuri grinned and nodded, "Mari and Minako are busy expanding the illusion of the demon village. Looks like we will need more houses, the members of the Order are providing the means..."

Victor smiled back. The last time they met they had to pretend to be enemies, "you got better with your sword." Pride was swelling inside him.

"You taught me well," Yuuri's hand by reflex landed around the hilt of the sword, "though I still could not beat the best swordsman in this Kingdom."

"There must be someone who could beat me Yuuri," Victor blushed and scratched his head.

"You are being humble," Yuuri pulled him close, and he paused, "Show me, I want to see your powers up close," he could feel Yuuri's comforting warmth next to him. He felt home.

Victor nodded. He opened his palm. This moment reminded him of the time when Yuuri first transformed into his beautiful demon form before him and watching his wings unfold. It was his turn. He showed Yuuri his everything.

_There is always a choice..._ he recited Yakov's words within his mind about the magic he inherited from his mother who came from the skies.  _Starfire, infused it with hatred and it burns, with the opposite of hatred it heals..._

Yuuri's grin widened as lightning connected from the sky to Victor's palms illuminating his silver hair.

Then Victor focused on the power in its rawest form, and grasped around it in his mind's eye. The white flame the colour of starts on his hand shrunk in size and flickered. He pictured that image of Yuuri when they first met, when Yuuri put his hand into the fire to show him that the villagers couldn't have touched him. His warm brown eyes filled with mischief, and his smile made Victor dizzy. That was the moment that changed everything.

Yuuri unfurled his fingers and reached towards it with curiosity without thinking, his lips parted slightly from amazement.

"Yuuri, wait -" Victor begun, because Yuuri was putting his hand into fire again.

Suddenly as Yuuri's fingertip skimmed by the flame the colour of starlight, he recoiled from the electric feeling that coursed through his body, similar to when his bare skin touched Victor's, his eyes widened.

"Why did you do that?" Victor frowned, _silly demon_ , he thought.

"Curiosity...You were thinking of me, when your fire didn't burn the prisoners, weren't you?" Yuuri whispered, his crimson eyes glistened. For that briefest moment where Yuuri was connected to Victor's Starfire, he caught a glimpse of his own image that Victor conjured of when they first met.

Victor nodded, as he raised the flame on his palm higher, as thick clouds begun to gathered around them, "I always think of you."

Yuuri's lips curled up, his hands grabbed the front of Victor's grey cape, his breaths hot on Victor's lips, "Victor...make it rain." He leaned into an almost kiss and closed his eyes. With his hand he tugged on the strings that held Victor's cape together with a slow motion and watched it flutter to the ground. As he pulled at Victor's tunic, revealing a sliver of Victor's pale skin.

Around them the mid afternoon sun hid behind the darkening clouds. They choose a dry spot on top of a mountain, where the field of grass from midsummer was knee high and turning yellow from the lack of rain. They didn't want to risk ruining the farmers' crops elsewhere.

"Anything for you," Victor flashed a smile meant only for him as he uncurled his fingers and released the flame flickering like a fallen star that got lost on earth. He conjured the image of a raging storm with his mind. His Starfire flew higher and higher until it was zigzagging through the clouds and expanded into flashes of lightning followed by tumultuous thunder. They stood together in a clearing next to a forest birch and aspen.

Large raindrops begun to fall, one right on Yuuri's nose as he blinked, as he laughed. Those drops coalesced, warm from the summer clouds, and connected the sky and the earth.

Yuuri gazed at Victor with pride, as he learnt to control his magic within seven days, a task that took the ordinary years.

Victor couldn't master it before because there was no one to teach him. A wave of gratitude washed over him as he thought of Rochelle, who introduced him to Yakov, the an angel in exile.

Victor leaned down, cupped Yuuri's face with both hands and their lips met.

* * *

Victor wasn't coming home tonight, Rochelle opened the window of their room containing the bed they never shared and watched the dark clouds gathering over the capital.  _I hope it rains...for Victor and Yuuri's sake._

From the outsider's view, Victor and Rochelle were blissful newlyweds, that walked the courtyards hand in hand. She put on her best smile, he finest clothes and even Victor's father was convinced that their happiness was for real.

She wished sometimes she could turn off her powers that could see the angels, as every time she glanced outside she could catch glimpses of the Fallen stalking the innocent. They weaved themselves in and out of their bodies, taking over their minds for longer and longer periods of time. She wished Victor was here, so they could have a duel to distract herself from the recent events. Her stiff dress hung heavy on her body. She fumbled through the laces on the bodice and stepped out of it as a wave of relief washed over her.

She opened her closet and pulled out her fighting gear. She pulled on the form fitting pants the same colour as the earth, and her forest green overcoat. She buckled her favorite weathered leather belt that had a place for her faithful sword over her armour as thunder rumbled in the distance. She missed the North, where wingbeats of angels could be heard on top of the snow covered mountains.

She missed her friend Sara, who risked her life as an angel to steal the swords angels used to punish their own.  _I wonder if she was alright..._ she had known Sara since they were children. Rochelle's father gave up trying to keep her from running away from the castle a long time ago. She was a tomboy at heart, Sara was the opposite. Sara used to giggle as she spoke of marrying the prince of a distant land while Rochelle rolled her eyes. Sara then made fun of her back by saying 'the only man you would consider marrying is the one who could defeat you in a sword fight'. She missed Sara, even when she rambled on about her overprotective twin brother following her like a shadow.

Rochelle's lips curled up a little as she broke into a sad smile from the irony that she was arranged to marry Victor.  _Was Fate mocking me?_  Perhaps. She proposed the tournament where knights from all of the kingdom fought each other for the honour of challenging her for her hand in marriage. She knew nothing would come of it because her skill was unparalleled. She knew there would not be a winner before it begun, because she didn't want to be married. Her training, her lithe form took years of training, blood, sweat, and tears. That tournament though did bring her kingdom prosperity, and some knights sworn allegiance to her father.

After she married Victor, she challenged him to a duel that took much longer than she anticipated. She remembered his soft smile as he lowered his sword and called for truce. She knew, though similar in skills, he had more stamina, and that if they kept on going he would have won. But instead of defeating her, he called it a tie with grace.

In theory, Victor was everything she ever wanted. Both of them knew beforehand, given who they were, the son of the most prominent mage family and the princess of the Northern Kingdom, their future wasn't up to them. The one question that she had been suppressing and avoided with desperation flashed through her mind.  _Could she learn to love Victor if she tried?_

The answer was the one she was afraid of.

She shook those forbidden thoughts out of her mind. She sworn to stand by him, as his friend. She sworn to wait for the person who only had eyes for her. She supported him full heartedly, she wanted him to be happy with Yuuri. She didn't want to admit it, but that was the bravest thing she had ever done.

Then wingbeats interrupted her thoughts followed by tapping on the closed wooden doors leading to the balcony. Her pulses accelerated,  _I hope it's Sara_. She pulled onto the metal rings with elaborate engraving on it and a pair of violet eyes the same shade as her childhood friend's caught hers by surprise, "Michele..."

"Hi, Rochelle," he folded his wings behind his back, he wore the same simple white shifts that the angels wore, laced with golden embroidery around the edges.

She took a step back as large raindrops splattered onto the white stone lining the sill of the balcony, "come in."

With soundless steps he followed her.

"Is Sara alright?" Her voice anxious, as Sara stole the Sacred Sword from the elders. Thousand of questions flashed through her mind, of the reason Sara didn't come today.

"They didn't even notice," Michele shook his head, "the Elders wanted nothing to do with the war, with the mages and demons, those ignorant fools..." He observed the relief washing over Rochelle from her body language, "Sara's laying low these days, just in case."

"I'm glad," Rochelle's lips curled up. She heard Sara ramble about her brother, of how he always 'rescued' her when the other angels picked on her when they were children, even when she didn't need him to. This was the second time she met him in person. The resemblance between him and her best friend was uncanny. They had the same olive complexion, violet eyes and even his expression reminded her of Sara, "what brought you here today Michele?"

She sat by the window and watched the storm outside. The white walls of the castle was coated with an enchantment that the rain would not dampen the inside despite the window being wide open. She propped her elbow on the windowsill, her eyes distant.

"Sara was worried about you...she sent me," Michele ruffled the feathers on his wings, before he sat on the chair across from her.

"I am alright," she lied, avoiding his gaze.

"Where did Victor go?" a few stray feathers zigzagged through the air and landed onto the intricate carpet on the ground weaved in violet and gold with the print of the Nikiforov family crest of the white wolf at the center.

Rochelle shrugged, "he's...been through a lot over the past few weeks..." Lightning flashed through the darkening sky, illuminating her profile, there was a glimmer in her golden eyes.

Michele's violet gaze hardened, "Sara told me to 'kick his ass' if he mistreated or ignored you," his brows narrowed, "...he has someone else, doesn't he?"

Rochelle forced a laugh, a wave of warmth washed over her thoughts of her best friend followed by surprise.  _Am I...that transparent?_  She turned away from him, eyes locked on the lightning in the distance.

She didn't see any point of lying to him, she nodded, "it's...complicated Michele." Warmth twirled around her eyes before she realized it.  _I knew from the beginning that Victor loved his demon prince, and that this marriage was only by name, and that I only...wanted to be with someone who only had the eyes for me...and that Victor and I promised to set each other free after the end of the war...but why...why does it hurt so much..._

Rochelle gripped the place where her heart was as she stood up and opened the double doors of her balcony and walked straight into the storm. She couldn't stand other people seeing her cry, so the rain was her perfect escape. She closed her eyes and welcomed those cold drops falling from the sky.

She finally admitted to herself: She fell in love with Victor.

How could she not? He was the perfect knight, he could defeat her in a fight, but he didn't in her honour. He promised her that he'd never touch her or do anything that she didn't want to do, and that he would set her free after the war is over. Victor would sacrifice everything to restore peace.

It was ridiculous, irrational, a thought that she would never act upon.

"You are crying..." Michele saw right through her.

Rochelle shook her head, "I am not...you are wrong, it was...all just rain..."

Suddenly the wet splashes on her cheeks stopped as she turned towards the angel before her, wings spread wide, shielding her from the rain. She could hear the splattering sound against his feathers.

She looked up, his face gentle.

"Rochelle...Sara sent me here to take care of you. She knew you spent your whole life looking out for others...you are noble, unselfish, Sara said you need someone to look out for you too..." distant lightning reflected in his violet eyes, "she told me that you used to go to the battlefields afterwards and you sang to the demons their song before they were gone...so they'd not be alone when they died. Sorry, I am rambling...but tell me what I can do to make you happy..."

Rochelle sniffled once, "I'm sorry, this is so stupid, and embarrassing..."

Michele shook his head.

"I...could use a good sparring session with sword right now," Rochelle wiped her face with a handkerchief.

"Okay, my sister told me about your skills," Michele's wings were still over her head, protecting her, creating a small world where only the two of them belonged, "but I know a thing or two myself."

Rochelle stepped inside and picked up her sword, she felt alive again from its comforting grip and familiar weight.

Michele took a few steps across the room, without thinking he grasped the handle of the sword Sara stole from the Elders, the same one with the onyx at the handle, the same one that was used to cut off the wings of angels that rebelled. Rochelle wondered if it was stained with Yakov's blood when he was exiled for his research in poison once upon a time.

Then white light erupted from the blade, outshining the dim glow of the dying day as soon as Michele touched it. Runes on the naked parts of the metal moved as the sword awoken at the hands of its destined Master.

Rochelle's jaw dropped as they stared at each other in disbelief.  _One from the Skies stained with Angel's blood..._ Rochelle recited the prophecy within her mind.

And Michele was its Master.

_Maybe Fate was screwing with me...if I loved Victor any less, if Sara didn't happen to notice, Michele wouldn't be here...Victor, I am still glad that we met. I would never tell you how I feel. This is my selfish secret...I want you to be happy._ Rochelle clenched her fist, tight.

* * *

Their wet hair mangled together, silver on black as their kisses deepened.

Victor's rain was different.

Warmer, gentler, each drop that touched Yuuri sent a small electric wave of pleasure through him.

Victor snaked his arm through his dark tunic and pulled Yuuri's body flush to his own as explored Yuuri's mouth with his tongue. Never breaking their kiss, Yuuri moaned as Victor slid hand down from his lower back.

Victor felt Yuuri inhale sharply as air was stole from his lungs. He lifted Yuuri's shirt from both sides, breaking their kiss for the briefest moment to pull it over his head. His lips moved down, to the sensitive spot on Yuuri's throat, his nipples, then he sank onto one knee.

Yuuri shivered in response as Victor's lips slid around him, he ran his hand through Victor's silver locks. The soft rain continued around them, quenching the thirst of the grass field below. They knew being close like this was the same as playing with fire. They didn't give a damn.

"Victor..." between panting, "slow down, or else I will...The waves of pleasure was so intense that, Yuuri struggled with his words.

Victor gazed up at him from his knees and licked his lips.

Yuuri stroke his face and planted both hands on Victor's shoulders and pinned him to the ground. The soft knee high grass broke their fall. With trembling hands, Victor's buttons came undone, Yuuri ran his hands over Victor's muscular chest next to the wild beats of his heart. Yuuri straddled him with his legs, their bare skin pressing together. He could feel Victor's react to their closeness against his stomach.

Victor found himself on his back, he clasped his lips with one of his hands to keep himself from screaming while Yuuri's tongue explored his body, in some of the most forbidden places. He grasped a handful of grass with his other hand as he arched his back,"Fuck...Yuuri..."

Yuuri kissed his inner thigh and flashed a mischievous smile.

Yuuri propped himself up with his arms as he watched Victor come undone before him, his crimson eyes bright.

"Yuuri," Victor nibbled on his ear, "do you want to or do you want me to -"

Yuuri pulled back, "you."

Victor nodded as he begun with his fingers.

Yuuri clawed at his shoulders as Victor found his spot.

Victor was his first and only. The only one he knew.

Night begun to fall, thick clouds still blanketed the sky. Yuuri lowered himself onto Victor's two fingers, a bit faster this time, as if the world was ending and that they were fighting for time.

The didn't know how much time passed.

"Victor, I am ready," Yuuri whispered between kisses.

"Are you sure? We haven't...done this for some time," Victor ran his spare hand down the outline of Yuuri's face, drenched by his rain, "it'd be like...our first time." They weren't sure when they started switching places, nor they cared, "tell me if I am hurting you...and I'll stop."

Yuuri's lips locked around Victor's chest, as he left his mark, his vermillion eyes met Victor's blue-green irises as he leaned closer until their lips were once again millimetres apart, "I don't care if it hurts, it'll make me remember you when you are gone tomorrow."

"Yuuri..." Victor closed the distance between them and bit Yuuri's bottom lip, "some day, I won't have to leave."

Yuuri repositioned himself on his knees and lowered himself onto Victor, whose pupils dilated with pleasure. Yuuri clawed the back of his shoulders as his hips rocked back and forth.

Victor gave him complete control. At this moment he forgot who he was, and that their love was so wrong that the earth and the sky protested.

Yuuri sped up and straddled Victor with his legs as he surrendered handing the control back to Victor. The last of the daylight illuminated the blush on his face, as he made little noises from the sweet rapture that drove Victor wild.

They melted into each other, under the cover of Victor's rain. With one final thrust Yuuri felt the new warmness as Victor let go.

He did too shortly thereafter onto Victor's sculpted chest. Yuuri blushed as he tried to wipe the mess he made on Victor with his hand before the rain washed it away. But then Victor grabbed his hand and licked it from his fingers, making him gasp a little.

Every hair stood on Yuuri's body from the sensation of Victor's tongue. He fingered at his own Firestone, hung from the chain around Victor's neck and smiled, "what if...someday we could live in a faraway place, with just you and I. Away from the capital, away from everything." Yuuri laid next to him on the grass and rested his head on Victor's chest.

Victor ran his fingers through Yuuri's hair, "I believe that day will come Yuuri...because I believe in you."

Yuuri closed his eyes, around them the raindrops were softly falling, "I believe in us."

They almost fell asleep, naked and tangled in each other, just us when they first met. Except back then Victor had long hair and that their skin didn't burn.

The raindrops were slowing down, with one longing sigh Yuuri propped himself up, knowing when the rain stopped their skin would burn again. Their clothes laid rumpled in a forgotten pile next to them.

With this palm he connected his demon powers and started a fire with the touch of his fingers.

They let go of the concept of time, the clouds parted revealing a full moon and millions of stars, since they were far away from the city. Yuuri found sticks to prop their clothes on to dry. The forest filled with the sounds of life, crickets and frogs chirped, some close, others distant.

Victor loved the way Yuuri's eyes lit up when he was searching for something, both of them still half naked while waiting for their clothes to dry, Yuuri's eyes was transfixed on the small green spots of light beginning to flicker in the forest around them.

Yuuri reached out toward the nearest firefly that landed on his finger.

A smile crept up on Victor's face, of course, Yuuri was once upon a time the boy loved by demons. He remembered the goblins the ferocious, gentle creatures alike that bowed at Yuuri's feet.  _How could someone look like that?_  Victor wondered. So at peace, in this ugly world where the renegade angels feasted on death and decay.  _How could someone be so...untainted by the darkness._

Then the realization came.

He remembered the words of his father's letter about the master of the third sword,  _'to be wielded by a demon untainted by hate.'_

The beautiful answer stood right before his eyes.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

You know those side characters that you love but know from the beginning that they are going to end up being the friend at the end? For instance: Ari from pilot's love song, and Izana from Knights of Sidonia, and I am guessing Rem too though I haven't finished Re:Zero.

I wanted a character like those to find happiness, hence I wrote Rochelle's arc. I also wanted to write about letting go of things that weren't meant to be. I think we have all been there at some point in real life. When one door closes, another window opens...

Let me know if you enjoyed this chapter! I appreciate every comment.

xoxo

Antares

<https://antarespromise.tumblr.com/>

My medical AU (if you want to read the opposite of fantasy): [There Is](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11398311/chapters/25528047)


	13. Moonlight

**Chapter 13: Moonlight**

They arrived at the harbour of the south, Otabek changed back from his phoenix form outside of the coastal city, a few violet feathers landed around them softly.

Yura wiped beads of sweat from his forehead. His crimson robes felt heavy, "Beka, we need new clothes."

Otabek nodded, thinking of the same thing. In comparison to Yura, his loose black tunics appeared less out of place, "wait here."

Otabek returned wearing nothing but a sleeveless black vest on top and wide legged trousers.

Yura blushed at first, trying not to stare at the defined muscles on his friend's chest. To distract himself he made fun of Otabek instead, "if you masquerade into the capital in that you'd be thrown out for public indecency." Yura laughed until his stomach hurt.

"I rather not pass out from the heat down here," Otabek shrugged, "everyone dresses like this inside, you should see the girls..."

Yura grumbled, he knew that was Beka's way of getting back at him.

"Here," Otabek tossed a bundle which Yura caught in midair with grace.

Yura burst out laughing again, "looks like I could also be flogged for public indecency too, Beka, why is so much of the back missing?" Yura raised an eyebrow as he pulled the black tank with faint golden embroidery of a tiger at the front. He was used to wearing elaborate tunics with intricate designs and laces inside the palace. This was something entirely different.

Otabek shrugged, "quit complaining...yours was expensive." It was Otabek's turn to blush when Yura started ripping off his clothes in front of him without a second thought or shame. This reminded Otabek of his days accompanying Yura in the palace as his slave.

"Oh? There's another piece," Yura lifted the magenta fabric from the pile. It fitted him perfectly, the fabric soft and fluttered a little with the warm wind. He was glad now his back was covered.  _Actually...Beka has good taste_...he thought to himself. Somehow the strange outfit worked, but he decided he'll never tell Otabek that.

The afternoon sun hung low, the trees along the city walls were different species than the capital, some with spiky leaves, others had clusters of coconuts. This was the first time Yura had been to the south, he was fascinated by everything in the market, the merchants the jugglers and street magician swallowing a flaming sword.

The peace and prosperity of the marketplace was apparent. Yura's forest green eyes darted from stand to stand, the scents, and the colours mesmerizing and overwhelming at the same time. He took a deep breath as they passed a stand with mounds of spice of different colour. Next to it a novelty shop studded with the skull of animals he had never seen before and strange jewels that changed colour every time a different person passed by. He fantasizes for a second  _what if I wasn't the nephew of the king, or the next in line for the throne? What if I could travel the world with Beka...just like this._ Yura glanced over at his friend, who wore his usual nonchalant look, "you've been here before?"

"Yea, plenty of times, before I was drugged, manacled and sold to the slave traders," Otabek wrinkled his forehead and shuddered, shaking away those memories. Around them humans and demons alike mingled, "we should be approaching the pier." A few white seagulls with grey wings and two feet wingspan cried in the distance.

Everyone around them dressed in a similar manner, brilliant colours, loose fitting and revealing in contrast to the strict capital's standards, Yura and Otabek blended right in.

They watched demons with pointed ears in their demi forms working together to carry sacks of goods from the tall ships, and buckets of freshly caught fish with glistening scales.

Yura's eyes widened with fascination.

"Are these ships with Loki?" Yura tugged on Otabek's elbow, lowering his voice.

Otabek shook his head, "even the local lords would not dare tamper with the White Tiger of the South." He scanned the horizon, "no matter what's about to happen, Yura, trust me."

Yura wasn't sure what to expect, but he nodded as he felt Beka squeeze his shoulder. He trusted Otabek with his life. He knew he wouldn't be in danger because if anything Beka could transform into a dragon, burn everything to the ground and fly him out of there if everything else failed.

Otabek's dark eyes narrowed for a split second and his back straightened as Yura followed. He approached a demon with a long blade tucked at his waist and a green bandana and whispered something in the demon's ancient tongue that Yura couldn't make out. Yura had always been envious of the demon's language and Victor's ability to pick it up. He tried hard himself but somehow he did not have the same affinity for foreign tongues.

The demon's sharp feline blue gaze transfixed on Yura as he swiftly turned. He crossed his arms and stalked away.

Otabek's dark eyes met Yura's curious green ones, he nodded.

Then footsteps surrounded them. They were strong, both males and females alike, clad in southern attire, revealing, loose, practical for their work under the scorching heat of the south. Other than their uncanny strength, they could blend right in with the rest of the crowd at the marketplace. Their leader was a demon girl with cropped black hair down to her chin and dark blue eyes, tiny rings studded both of her pointed ears, on the right side, she wore an earring ending in an indigo feather. She encircled them without sound and moved like an assassin stalking her prey. She crossed her arms and exchanged a few more sentences with Otabek in the ancient demon tongue, her tone suspicious as well.

Yura and Otabek's gaze met one more time. Yura understood Otabek's eyes that said:  _trust me._

Then Yura heard the familiar snapping sound of Otabek transforming next to him. For one second Otabek became a Siberian tiger, then he changed into an arctic fox, an eagle, the phoenix with sunset feathers, a bear, a husky. He was shapeshifting so fast that Yura almost couldn't keep up. The demons surrounding them had similar reactions, their mouths agape. Regarding their reaction, Yura couldn't help but smirk a little.

At last Otabek changed back to his human form. He landed on one knee in from of Yura and kissed the back of his left hand.

Yura inhaled sharply, as he tried his hardest not to blush,  _not now..._ he cursed inside, he was grateful the sun was also making his cheeks flushed. He thought of Victor for a second to help his racing heart calm down. Victor was the perfect knight, who wore a gentle smile and unfazed eyes. Yura focused on mirroring Victor's countenance because he was the king the Order of Wisteria had chosen.

The dark haired demon girl bowed with one arm across her chest, her expression soft, then she spoke in words Yura could understand, "any friend of an Universal we consider friend of ours," she tilted her chin and casted a look to the other demons surround Yura. One by one they bowed and sank onto one knee, "please forgive our rudeness, my name is Isabella...we'll take you to him."

* * *

They were blindfolded as they sat next to each other on the wooden ship. They agreed to abide by Loki's rules, after Isabella apologized profusely and scolded the rest of the crew about treating their new guests with complete respect. She grew on Yura right away. She was a natural leader, gentle yet fierce.

"You are kind of a big deal..." Yura leaned against Otabek's back smiling into his blindfold. Somehow he had become more aware of Beka because while one of his senses was robbed by the blindfold, everything else sharpened.

"Not really...there's not many like me out there," Otabek scratched his head, "that's all," he shrugged.

"Stop pretending to be humble," Yura elbowed him, "you are the most damn powerful shapeshifter in this entire kingdom." He leaned against the comforting warmth of Otabek's back, it was warm, solid, Yura wished he could stay like this forever. Around them he could hear the waves crashing against the hull as the robust wooden ship with the faded white tiger flag on it set sails.

Otabek leaned onto Yura's back, a few golden locked brushed his cheeks from the wind. He didn't say anything back, he too, wished time would stop, right here.

* * *

The white sand under their feet was warm and soft, the turquoise coastline of the island stretched on for miles and miles. Further inland there was rocky terrain and a a steep mountain. A seagull cried in the distance. Yura had never been this far south, he still was fascinated by everything around him.

His heart pounded, he was about to stand face to face with the demon who gave him life, whose form was identical to his own. They followed Isabella into a cave. The temperature dropped around them starkly, the cool dampness comforting. Bioluminescent creatures lit up the wall of the cave and stalactites from the ceiling in shades of green and blue. Lesser demons fluttered from the ceiling, taking refuge from the blazing heat outside.

Time and space seemed irrelevant inside. Then they entered a passage with torches on either side, suddenly the ceiling of the chamber rose and the walls expanded as if entering the grand hall of a castle. Their footsteps reverberated through the vast space.

They approached a white clad figure seated at the end of the hall. Otabek felt Yura tense and he stepped a little closer to his friend.

Loki and Yura's gaze transfixed upon each other. The demons behind them stunned, because their resemblance was uncanny. Loki had golden hair of the same shade that hung loose past his shoulders with a small section pulled in a messy knot at the back. He took a sharp inhale of his pipe lighting up the cave wall around him. He uncrossed his legs and leaned forwards, "who are you?" His deep voice reverberated through the cave.

Yura didn't say anything, he unclasped the amber at his neck and tossed it towards the leader of the pirates seated before him.

With lightning reflexes Loki caught it in the midair. His express unreadable as he opened his hand and his gaze felt upon his own Firestone.

"My mother's," before Loki could ask, Yura gave him the answer.

The demons surrounding their leader held their breaths. They had never seen their leader look like this before.

Loki closed his hands around the tiny piece of amber and clenched his fist tight. He tried not to let the myriads of emotions whirling through him show on his face, "Arielle..." he whispered Yura's mother's name, "you should have told me..." he stood up. His easy going face peaceful, disguising the brewing storm of memories beneath.

He walked towards Yura.

"I don't know what to say..." he regarded his son, the younger mirror image of himself, "I'm sorry...if I had known...I would have taken you with me, I asked Arielle to come with me time and time again, but she wouldn't because of love for her people..."

Yura wasn't sure what to say either. He couldn't respond with 'it's alright', because it wasn't. If it was up to him a few months ago he would have lost his temper and screamed every foul word at the father he had never known. But he changed, as the Order have chosen him as their King, as Otabek returned to his side after he had set him free. He realized he could not behave like a child anymore.

Time seemed to stop without Yura pulling on its reins.

They regarded each other with eyes of the same shade.

The older demon raised a hand and touched the side of Yura's head.

His hand felt callused on Yura's skin, Yura didn't flinch.

"Do you have a demon form, Yuratchka?" His father asked.

Yura nodded. With a snapping sound and remembering all of the instructions Otabek had given him to try not to be stuck into his halfway form, he transformed.

His father let out delighted sound as he too joined Yura in his demon form. The other demons watched the two tigers wrestling with each other with awe. One larger, one smaller, both white as snow and decorated with black stripes.

Then Yura returned to his human form and flashed Otabek a grin because he had never been able to sustain his tiger form for this long, as a new shapeshifter.

Otabek smiled back.

"How is your grandfather?" Loki rested a hand on Yura's shoulder.

"He still wants to slit your throat the last time I checked," Yura panted but he couldn't help but smile back.

"I don't blame him," Loki sighed, "I heard the war at the north is brewing."

Yura nodded, "I need your help," he stood straighter as he told his father about the Demon Sword last rumoured to be in the south.

Loki returned his gaze darkly, "I kept that sword on a desolate island thirty minutes from here so its presence would not tempt anyone...it's an evil sword that drove its masters mad, turned them into bloody murders, and thousands lives came to the end because of its presence."

"We need that sword, to fight something far more sinister than itself," Yura then explained the Fallen and the only way to defeat them.

Seeing Yura's determination, "that look on your face Yura, you are just like your mother..." Loki sighed, "if you insist on taking the sword, then I'll prepare a boat first thing in the morning. But I forbid you to touch its hilt or try to wield it, can you promise me that?"

Yura and Otabek gazed at each other then he nodded. He knew, neither of them could be the sword's true master. 'To be wielded by a demon untainted by hate,' give their past, they both were certain they were too far gone, scarred, jaded and callused, "you have my word."

"And Yura?" Loki scratched his head, "if you don't mind, I know am asking too much from you, of all these years I didn't know that you existed, I'd like to make it up to you. If you'd let me."

The demons around him had never seen their leader look vulnerable.

Strange emotions were flooding inside Yura all at once. He reflected back at his lonely life in the palace.  _Family..._ Victor was the closest thing to a brother to him. The other young Nikiforov mages did not treat him with much kindness. He lived amongst the rumour of himself being an illegitimate child and not deserving to be the next in line for the throne, which he didn't care for. He relished those moments he had to visit his grandfather, who was placed in chains around his ankles and under house arrest for being a 'demon loving lunatic' by the King, whose body was possessed by Lilith. Then Otabek appeared in his life and filled the giant gaping hole of loneliness of not belonging. When he woke up in his halfway form in Otabek's arms in the middle of the lake, and learning he was the King the Order of Wisteria had chosen, he was beginning to find his place. And now...the man who gave him life, who took the half-demons like himself shunned by both worlds and gave them a place to belong was stood before him with open arms.

Yura's lips trembled, he cleared his throat, crossed his arms and held his head up high. He wasn't ready for hugs or a warm reunion by any means, "fine, I suppose I could give you a chance,  _Loki_. Don't expect me to call you father or anything..." but within his voice, Loki heard a hint of a smile, "and if my grandfather tried to slit your throat when he sees you, old geezer, I won't stop him."

"Thank you, Yura, that's more than enough for me."

* * *

"Beka?"

"Huh?" Otabek was growing groggy from their long day of traveling and the feast Loki had insisted upon. The futon felt more and more comfortable every second, "Yura, what is it?" He caught a glimpse of his covers being lifted and suddenly became more awake.

Yura curled up next to him in his bed.

Otabek's heart raced as he watched Yura's face from up close invading his pillow.

"It was strange, meeting my dad. On one hand I wanted to strangle the old geezer, for...I don't know, for his reputation of being a womanizer before he met my mom, for not taking responsibility, but on the other hand, he didn't know...mom never told him..." He sighed, "I never asked you about your family," Yura leaned closer, "and your childhood."

Otabek avoided his piercing emerald gaze for a second, "there's not much to tell." He sighed, "they were all dead, when the King declared war on the demon kind, the army drugged our entire village with incense before killing. I got away because I transformed into something small."

With a little hint of hesitation Yura cupped his face with one hand. His touch sent tingles down Otabek's entire spine.

"Then I became a soldier, I pushed my body beyond its limits, I...once swore to kill every single one of you," his dark eyes narrowed, "the entire royal family." His dark brows furled and unfurled. The warmth from Yura's hand forced him to look into those forest green eyes once again.

"Beka, I'm so sorry," Yuri Plisetsky was not a person who would easily apologize, "I -"

Otabek pressed one of his fingers on Yura's lip and shook his head, "I used to be driven by hatred, to avenge my kin. I thought everyone in the capital deserved to die...I swore to kill you too at one point..."

Yura's lips curled up into a sad smile. He was glad Beka was at last could talk about himself, with such honesty, without any walls between them.

"Until you proved me wrong," Otabek gripped onto Yura's fingers that were still lingering alongside his face, "then I realized simple bloodshed wasn't the answer...and even if I ended your life, I would still feel just as empty...then I saw you are the one worthy for me to follow. You are the future of the demons and the mages. Our King."

Nothing has prepared Otabek for the question Yura was about to ask next.

"Is that all I am to you?" Yura tilted his chin up, there was a hint of moonlight stealing through the window illuminating Yura's face, his expression soft.

Otabek couldn't put his answers into words. He had been beside Yura since he was thirteen. First he was given as a gift as a slave in demon manacles as a sign of prestige, then before they knew it, they were...friends. He watched Yura transform, from an immature, snarky, aloof child with an uncanny talent for manipulating time with his mage powers, to a soldier, who found his own reasons to fight. Then Yura became a leader and a golden beacon of hope...and when Yura set him free, he thought he would return to the demons, and to go back to being a warrior to avenge his people, but he couldn't shake the heaviness off his chest. He could have turned around and relished in the freedom he dreamt of at last. No longer bound by the magic of the demon manacles, created from Victor's angel blood, being a certain radius away from Yura no longer brought upon excruciating pain. But then the realization came, like a pebble sinking to the bottom of a sacred lake, or a deep punch in the gut, even without the manacles the pain was the same when Yura was not by his side.

Otabek wasn't a man of many word.

He pulled Yura close and kissed him. Yura's lips tasted like mint, they were softer than he had imagined. Otabek's heart fluttered when he realized Yura was kissing him back from his hot breaths on his cheeks. Both were a little clumsy, but neither of them cared. He stroked Yura's golden locks, pushing them back, letting his beautiful hair the colour of the morning star glide through his fingers.

The next thing he knew Yura was on top of him, with his arms snaking through the fabric of his shirt and stroking his naked back. His golden man fell in a curtain around Otabek's face, creating a small world only the two of them belonged.

Otabek prayed he would not spontaneously transform into something embarrassing.

"Does this answer your question?" Otabek pressed his forehead against Yura's. As much as he wanted more, he held himself back because Yura was still underage.

Then he felt Yura trembling, a hot drop fell onto Otabek's cheek, Yura propped himself up and wiped his eyes.

"Did I...do something wrong?" Otabek wasn't sure what to do, had to grip onto the sheets to stop his heart from leaping out of his chest. He raised a hand slowly and wiped his friend's tears away.

"I am...just happy, that's all." Yura shook his head and smiled, his nose a little red, his eyes shone like jewels, and there was moonlight in his hair.

* * *

Even though Otabek could have easily taken Yura to the small island, Loki insisted they travel by boat because the sheer evilness seeping through the Demon Sword. He handed them a piece of leather roughened by time. It was an artifact left behind by the Greater demons to keep the evil sword in check.

They left the south with the last sword in a bundle strapped to Yura's back.

Before they parted, Loki handed a banner to his son. Yura's jaw dropped from its sheer beauty. It looked just like the banners on his father's ships except in the background there were flowers. Wisteria. His mother's favourite flowers. The violet blossoms and emerald leaves surrounded the white tiger in the foreground, making it appear even more regal than ever before.

Loki promised that he would make preparations for his fleet and to join the battle for the demons and mages to be able to live in peace. He also told Yura he would give anything for Yura to acknowledge him as his father.

Yura smiled and told him he'd think about it before he leapt onto Otabek's back in the phoenix form.

Carrying the brand new banner, the final sacred sword, and hope on his back, Otabek let out a shriek resembling a war cry as he soared above the clouds into the sunset.

* * *

They headed to the first place they met.

Yuuri rode on Victor's horse in front of him, weaving in and out of consciousness. Victor could tell the toll that bearing the sword on Yuuri. He supported Yuuri's weight with his chest, with his arms around Yuuri while his hands held the reins of his faithful brown horse, that accompanied him since when they first met.

There was not a cloud in the sky that night. The September breeze added a hint of coolness as their horse galloped, "are you cold?" Victor kissed him on top of his head.

Yuuri shook his head.

After weeks of meetings, strategizing for the upcoming battle, Yuuri hid how exhausted he was from the rest. Only Victor saw through those disguises. The Demon Sword was evil. Through its seductive whispers, it drove all of its previous owners towards insanity. The master of this sword also carried the memories of its previous owners. Most of its previous masters were driven over the edge, and ended up using the sword to end countless lives. Yuuri had to live through these memories every night. Since the first day Yuuri touched the hilt of the sword, the colour of his skin on his hand begun to change. It was a shade of grey resembling death and decay. He didn't want his comrades to see, so he wore gloves to cover them instead. Those marks were slowly making its way up towards Yuuri's forearm.

Victor then decided he had seen enough. He whisked Yuuri away after a long session with Chris to discuss their plan of attack for the capital. He knew Lilith and Azriel would act soon, the fire of the blacksmiths inside the city was permanently lit day and night. They were preparing for war.

The moon was full that night, the unmounted and let the horse graze the fresh grass beside the sacred lake that glistened as a turquoise jewel during the daylight. The tree that they promised to meet time and time again stood by the lake, casting its umbrella like shadow from the moon. A wave of wind sent ripples through the perfect reflection of the moon on its mirror like surface. Yuuri leaned against their tree, while Victor started a fire with the tip of his fingers.

Victor settled next to him and Yuuri nestled his head against Victor's shoulders.

"Victor, I want something of yours," there were dark circles beneath Yuuri's eyes from sleepless nights of wrestling with the sword's dark presence.

Before he finished his sentence, Victor opened his palms, clad by vermillion gloved, and there was a golden ring, "in our world, these are the equivalent of Firestones."

Yuuri's crimson eyes glistened, as his face broke into a tired smile. He let Victor peel off his black glove on his right hand and watched him slip on the ring around his fourth fingers it. It fitted perfectly. Yuuri couldn't take his eyes off the golden circle gleaming in the fire as he stretched out hand. The grey markings from wielding the evil sword on his right hand retreated just a little at the spot where the ring shone.

Victor stroked his face, with tender gentleness as the wings of a butterfly. He wanted Yuuri, he wanted to touch him in the rain. But not like this, he couldn't bring himself to do anything other than holding onto Yuuri tight, shielding him from the cold. And hoping that in his arms, the nightmares would be more distant.

"Victor," Yuuri's vermillion eyes met his from below, "if...if I ever lose myself and forget who I was because of this sword, and if I hurt the innocent, I want you to end my life...I want you to be the one to do it."

"Yuuri, don't say that," Victor stroked his hair with gloved hands and pulled his face close until their lips almost met, "I won't allow it."

"I know you won't," Yuuri brought the ring to his lips and kissed it, Victor watched Yuuri's grey cursed marks from the sword retreat a little more.

"For tonight, you don't have to think about anything," Victor rested Yuuri's head on his own shoulders, "just imagine, when everything is over, you and I through the fire, and that someday, we could be together without the rain." The fire before them crackled, sending sparks from its embers.

Yuuri nodded as Victor held him until dreamless sleep claimed him at last.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

The image of Loki I had in my head resembles Worick from Gangsta...I love that series, especially Nicolas Brown, who is an absolutely amazing character.

I just finished two weeks of working nights at the hospital. Eight more months of residency left and then I never have to work nights ever again. Seeing light.

This is Otabek & Yuri's chapter.

Let me know if you enjoyed it! I anticipate 3-4 more, I can't believe it's this close to the end. Remember no matter what happens in the upcoming chapters that I only do happy endings.

Much love,

-A

<https://antarespromise.tumblr.com/>

My medical AU: [There Is](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11398311/chapters/25528047)


	14. Maeve

"Two part Wisteria seeds, one part Nightshade...that ought to do it...paint the arrows with this and it will expel the Fallen from its host, and the sacred sword from our kind can then put them to an end, but this won't work on the Greater Ones like Lilith and Azriel," Yakov's stirred the caldron his his dimly lit apothecary, he broke into a lopsided grin, "Vitya, now you see why the angels exiled me?"

Victor wasn't sure what to say, Rochelle had warned him that Yakov was...eccentric. But from the way she embraced him like an old friend, Victor knew his heart was in the right place. He raised an eyebrow.

"Knowledge. It's a dangerous thing, I studied poison when I lived on the Northern Peaks before the elders cut off my wings. I didn't become an apothecary to harm others, in fact there were times where one form of poison must be used to conquer another, if that makes any sense." Satisfied, Yakov poured his grey concoction into a flask, "the Elders in my world were a bunch of ignorant fools that did not want any involvement in the war. They didn't even acknowledge that the source of evil originated straight from right under their roof." He hobbled towards the back of his shop, his wooden leg making clanking noises on the floor as he retrieved another jar amidst rows of clear glass jars filled with fluids. Some had herbs suspended inside, as for others...Victor didn't want to ask.

"Other than with the Demon Sword, are there other ways of killing the Greater Ones?" Victor peered at the older man through his silvery lashes.

"Not without killing the host that its spirit latched onto," Yakov turned slowly and peered at Victor with his sharp, inquisitive eyes, "there is one potion more potent than any other named Soulbinder, it temporarily tethers the soul of the Fallen to the host, and destroys both in the process. Its recipe was in the forbidden section of the library of the Angels, which I frequented," his hand rested on the last vial on the most obscure corner of his shelves, inside the opaque fluid swirled, grey streaks mixed with black. It looked like death, "this is one of the most deadly forms of poison, meant to induce excruciating pain..." Yakov mumbled something else inaudible.

"Thank you, that's all I need to know," Victor rested a finger on his chin, his eyes distant.

* * *

Rochelle matched his pace without a sound inside the courtyard of the Nikiforov family adjacent to the King's castle.

Victor caught a glimpse of Azriel inside his father's body disappearing into the distance. He couldn't help but notice the new narrowness of his shoulders. He appeared ill, his broad back slumped a little, and there were extra creases at the corner of his eyes and on his forehead, plastered with silvery hair the same shade as Victor's own.

Victor knew, the time for Azriel's to dwell within his father's body was drawing towards the end. His real father's letter said by the time Victor read it, his soul would be close to fading from this world. Victor's stomach turned making a tight knot as a pang of guilt coursed through him. His father sacrificed himself by willingly giving Azriel his body in order to find out the Fallen's weaknesses. He was the bravest man Victor had ever known, yet Victor resented him all of his life. He sighed. Rochelle's presence comforting by his side.

Rochelle casted him a sideways glance, pursed her lips and nodded.

They were here to fulfill a promise that Victor made to the father he had never known.

There was a little demon named Minami who risked his life by fetching pen and ink to write that letter when Azriel temporarily left Victor's father's body chained to the dungeons in order to plot with with Lilith in private. As Azriel grew more powerful, he could last longer without the body of his host. Azriel cut off Minami's tongue shortly after he was bought, manacled, and forced to become a slave to the Nikiforov family.

Victor promised his real father to set the little demon free.

They opened the wooden door with the Nikiforov family crest of the wolf casted on a bronze plaque, along with intricate vines. Their footsteps reverberated through the white stone surround every side. They pushed past two sets of doors and descended towards the dungeons. A wave of bone piercing coldness washed over them.

Victor didn't want to know what Azriel kept down there, nor he was particularly curious. As Yakov taught him to connect with his powers, when he squinted he could catch glimpses of the Fallen. He didn't know how Rochelle could live day by day watching those grotesque skeletal creatures that were once angels crawl through the city and scavenge the battlefields to feast on the decaying flesh of the dead.

The torches with glowing blue light fuelled with magic lined the white stone walls. The dungeons reminded Victor of being buried by a glacier.

He passed by an unremarkable chamber with its wooden door opened a crack. He felt Rochelle tense next to him from the sound of her footsteps. Victor peered inside with narrowed eyes. The room was crawling with them. Their broken decaying wings mangled and stuck at wrong directions. The heat of the room a stark contrast from the white walls that reminded him of inside of a grave. He could not believe they were angels once.

The Fallen in their twisted forms lined up in an oddly organized fashion resembling a production line. The two at the end hissed instructions to the rest. There was a pit, inside it tongues of white-blue flame flickered. One of the Lesser Ones fanned the flame while another stirred the bubbling caldron filled with silver liquid. Their leader uttered something as he tipped the caldron over and poured a few drops into a mould, the silvery metal sizzled and filled the circular space the size of an average wrist. The next Fallen clutched a small glass eye dropper with its hands with grey skin the same shade of decay and deposited dark red liquids onto the silver demon manacle inside its mold.

Victor bit his bottom lip and continued walking. There was no doubt what crimson liquid was.

Blood.

His blood.

This was the reason Azriel demanded his blood every few months. For the same reason each time he touched Yuuri's skin, they burnt. His angel blood was so potent that his magic could destroy demons and twist their will. It was no longer a surprise that his love with Yuuri was so forbidden even the sky and earth protested.  _One more day..._ he thought to himself. At the end of every September, the young mages training with the Nikiforov family went home to their own parents. Then he could at last rebel against Azriel in the open, because otherwise taking hostage of the young mages would be easy. Victor's dug his nails into his fist. He wished he could throw away his family crest and strip away his crimson robes and join Yuuri's side, but he couldn't, because the Order needed someone on the inside.

They descended further into the lowest level of the dungeon. Victor narrowed his eyes and furled his eyebrows at the sight of the white-blue torches lighting their way. Those were the same flames laced with magic that was used to execute Yuuri's parents years ago.

Then the sound of tapping feet with scrubbing grew louder then softer again. They walked past a few empty cells and at the very end behind open bars a little demon with brilliant golden hair with a side swept red streak at the front was bent over as he pushed the piece of rag with both hands up and down the length of the dungeon floor.

"Minami," Victor called out to him using his gentlest voice, trying to mimic Yuuri's tone, "it's alright".

Startled, the little demon clad in brown robes sunk to one knee, leaving the dripping rag onto the white marble floor. Victor knew he couldn't speak because Azriel cut off his tongue. Victor joined him on his knees so their eyes were on the same level, Rochelle on the other side.

Victor pulled out the silver knife his father gave to him for his birthday and made a swift cut on his palm. Beads of red seeped through and trickled onto the ground staining the white stone ground.

Rochelle's smile seemed to relieve the tension from Minami's shoulders. She picked up his wrist and held it towards Victor and nodded.

Carefully not touching Minami's skin, a single drop of Victor's blood fell onto the thin silver demon manacle at his wrist. Minami gasped as Victor conjured the smallest wisp of white flames from his fingertips. There was a cracking sound as a hair-thin break appeared on the surface of the demon manacle as broken glacier setting off the beginning of an ice age. The silver shackle shattered into one thousand pieces, "You are free." Victor smiled as Rochelle pulled out a set of red robes of the young Nikiforov mages.

Minami's brown eyes widened and glistened, he nodded at her and scrambled towards the dungeon as Victor and Rochelle simultaneously turned away so he could slip into the crimson uniform granting him privacy.

With one protective hand around his shoulder, Rochelle whisked him away while Victor burnt his brown robes with Starfire erupting from his palms. Thanks to Yakov's instructions, Victor tapped into the powers from the Skies.

 _Father...I kept my words..._ Victor whispered in his mind.

* * *

Since the first moment Yuuri wielded the Demon Sword, he knew he was its master. It's dark blade sang seductively to him, tickled his ears only with whispers promising insurmountable power if he handed over his mind.

His hand became tainted with a greyish colour as he wrestled with its voices that only he could heard. The vivid visions carried by the sword's past shook him to the core. For days he dreaded falling asleep because he had to relive the memories of its previous owners. Some were warriors, others Kings, merchants, scientists, angels, demons, mages alike. They all started off kind, determined, ambitious as if they could conquer the world. Yuuri watched them change through their own eyes. The whispers of the sword tainted them, until something inside broke and they were all written in history as mass murderers.

He shuddered he saw the sword taking thousands of lives away. With a simple swing, the air was buzzing and whirling with its magic followed by the sounds of screams. He could feel the warmth of the blood splattering onto his hands, and the visceral smell of burning flesh, a wave of nausea washed over him. He woke up with sweat soaking through his back. He had a growing impulse to wash his hands to rid of the sensation of warm blood rolling every fingertips even though they were not there. He saw the grey colour of his skin on his hands spread up past his wrist and forearm.

On those nights where Victor held him until he fell asleep, the nightmares seemed more distant, and the sword's whispers futile.

He lifted the ring on his fourth finger and kissed it. The area of his skin surrounding the ring refused to turn into that grey shade of death. He wrapped his arms around himself, pretending Victor was close again and sighed. He craved Victor now more than ever. The feeling of Victor's hands all over his skin in the rain, the pressure of Victor's lips over the forbidden places.

With the back of his left hand he wiped away the beads of sweat. On some days he rather not try to sleep, it was easier that way. But there could only be so many of those nights, he was thinner, there were growing dark circles beneath his eyes. His eyelids grew heavier and heavier as blackness claimed him. He couldn't let any hint of weakness show. Being the last prince of the Demon kind, he had no choice but to put on the mask of strength.

Yuuri drifted to sleep.

In this dream he was walking through a forest path leading to a humble village with wisps of smoke rising through the chimneys. The villagers gathered at the the clearing. He saw Victor's ring on the finger of his right hand, and realized he was still himself in this vision, and not inside the body of one of the sword's previous owners.

The villagers gathered around the clearing carrying rocks in their hands.

Yuuri froze. Because this scene was too familiar to him as he had been there time and time again. He once bore the nicknamed 'calamity's child' because of the demons who loved him and flocked to his side. Before Victor taught him now to fight, he had been captured over and over by villagers. Except each time the peasants tried to hurt him, his demons would swoop in and deflect the rocks sometimes with their own bodies, and chew through the ropes cutting into his wrist. He disliked burning the most, because that meant after the ignorant humans scattered to escape after they realized he was untouchable by fire, his clothes would have already turned to ashes. He had to walk around naked until he could a new set. That was all when Minako suppressed his memories and powers. When he came of age, those memories returned and his Wings erupted from his back.

Yuuri watched the boy who appeared around ten being tied to the tree. He had thick dark brown hair and dark eyes like the night. Lesser demons gathered around him, trying to guard him from the crowd.

Yuuri knew this was a dream and there was no chance the villagers could see him, except the boy gazed straight at him.

"Lilith," one of the village elders stepped forwards, "we hereby condemn you to die, for bringing misfortune upon this village. We don't have a place for you here." He threw the first rock that hit the side of the boy's face, making a sickening sound, blood trickled down his cheek. The boy didn't protest or try to dodge out of the way. He merely watched them with a blank, stoic expression.

Yuuri heard himself inhale sharply, he could feel his heart about to leap out of his chest.  _Lilith,_  he realized was also once a master of the Demon Sword. He was gazing at the past of the Fallen who started everything. Lilith, the one who corrupted the angels, whispered into their minds and drove them to break their own wings, abandoning their own form and feasting on the flesh of the dead. He was the one who plotted with Azriel and took over the bodies of Yuuri's parents and used them to commit brutal murder of the real King's wife and daughter. He was the one who declared war on the demon kind. He was the one who announced that shapeshifters were no different from livestock, and ordered massacre of entire demon villages, not even sparing the babies. With chaos and war Lilith incited, the Lesser Fallen multiplied and begun to evolve into Greater Ones like themselves.

Yuuri dug his nails of his free hand into his palm, his other hand wouldn't release its grip on the demon sword.

Another rock was flung in the boy's direction.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Blood trickled onto the boy's shoulders, as he closed his eyes. He had dark long lashes.

Before the next waves of rocks made contact, a gargoyle leapt before him and protected him with its own body. It let out a vicious snarl in midair. The villagers stepped back, fear fresh in their eyes. Then the sound of rocks rolling onto the ground followed. They pushed and shoved against each other, some let out screams and their shuffling feet faded as they retreated.

The resemblance of this to Yuuri's own past was uncanny. He didn't know what made him step forwards. He couldn't stand and watch any longer. He knew well that this was Lilith, the root of evil that destroyed his kind, his stomach twisted and turned. A wave of disgust washed over him from witnessing the sheer ignorance of the peasants. Briskly he raised his blade and sliced through the ropes creating red burns on the boy's wrists in half. The weight of the demon blade in his hand heavy. He let out a small gasp as the grey color on his hand faded a little.

 _Despite who he had become...He didn't deserve this...nobody deserved this._ Yuuri whispered in his mind. He had to remind himself this was a memory of the sword, and separate from the reality.

Lilith's eyes downcast, he rubbed his right wrist swollen and red with his other hand, his expression unreadable. When Yuuri took a few steps forwards their eyes met.

"Thanks," The ten year old version of Lilith tilted his chin up. A small blue bird demon with sharp intelligent crimson eyes landed on his left shoulder.

Another three fluttered towards them and competed for the spot on top of Yuuri's messy black hair.

Lilith couldn't help himself but laughed, as if he had forgotten only moments before there was an entire village after his blood.

Yuuri extended a hand for the blue-green demon bird with glistening feathers who lost that fight to land on his head. His lips curled up skywards. He couldn't sense any hint of evil from the boy's presence. He was surprised that the child form of Lilith could still laugh at a time like this. Yuuri knew, this must not be the boy's first time being captured either.

"You are...just like me," Lilith stretched out his palm for the other bird to land, "what's your name?"

"Yuuri," he nodded as Lilith held the little demon as if it was the most precious thing in the world. Yuuri shuddered inside, he wondered what happened to the boy before him transforming him into the monster wrecking havoc in the real world. His eyes transfixed at the horizon, he realized the scent of lavender all of a sudden. Despite the ugly ways of the villagers the lavender field was beautiful beyond words. Violet mounds of blossoming rows of lavender disappeared into the distance in an ocean of different shades of violet and green. The sky was turning orange from the impending sunset.

"I...destroyed many lives right?" The boy's dark irises had a timeless appearance, seeping wisdom beyond his years.

Yuuri couldn't deny that. He could feel the younger boy's pain, "it wasn't your fault." It took all of his strength to utter those words.  _What if Lilith had been killed by the villagers? What if the demons never swooped in to save him? Would the mages and demons be at war? Would my parents still be alive?_  He shook those thoughts away.  _Would I still have met Victor then?_  "It was the Demon Sword, Lilith." There was affirmation and finality to Yuuri's voice.

The boy shook his head, "I wasn't strong enough..." his eyes narrowed, the demon bird soared into the air and vanished into the forest..."I wasn't the one Untainted by Hatred like what that prophecy said."

Yuuri found his hand on the boy's shoulder, "I will make things right again, I promise...stop blaming yourself."  _Kill him..._ the sword's voice whispered to him.  _Kill the weak, the traitor._  Yuuri focused on the sight of the golden ring on his right hand...the sword's whispers became more distant.

"Yuuri, please destroy the other part of me in the real world," Lilith gripped onto Yuuri's wrist, "please do not hesitate, because only then I could be free, all of us, the sword's previous masters could be move on." His dark eyes shone like jewels, "all of us are with you, in spirit."

Yuuri suddenly pulled the boy into his arms, his heart racing and breaking at the same time, "I promise."

* * *

The next morning tension was escalating throughout the city as the mages army gathered and prepared for march. Amidst the mage soldiers the more powerful Fallen that evolved to latch into the mages' body lurked in their flesh and controlled their minds. When struck by the sword, the Fallen would unlatch, leaving their host to die and they would move on to find another. The soldiers lined up outside of the city walls, clad in an ocean of red. Large drums were wheeled outside of the city gates by horse drawn carriages.

Even the King himself, with Lilith residing inside his body was dressed in his golden armours, brighter than the sun.

Victor scanned the ocean of red from the soldiers' uniforms. He squinted from the brilliant rays reflected from the armours. He saw the faces of the faithful generals that fought at the King's side and automatically begun to count them,  _twenty-two, twenty-three..._ he recited their names in his mind by each division. He shuddered as he sensed the aura of decay from the few soldiers in the distance. They must be possessed by the Fallen, chills shot down his spine. Michele and Chris had been training day and night. Chris, whose identity still remained a mystery even to Victor was the master of the Sword of the Half Moon. With one swing, it could repel the Lesser one from the body of its host. While Michele, who wielded the Sword once used to cut off the wings of the rebellious angels, had the power to destroy the Fallen.

 _Something wasn't right,_  there were thirty three generals fighting for the King.  _Seven_   _were missing._  He grasped tight onto the reins. Rochelle followed close behind sensing something was wrong, her braid was pinned into an elegant bun on one side of her head.

Victor's horse trotted and paused at the King's side, "what happened to the other generals?" He wore his best mask of an unfazed expression.

Lilith broke into a twisted smile, "funny that you'd ask, I sent them out three days ago," his golden hair the same shade as Yura's framed his face, "on a secret mission."

 _Where?_  Victor kept his composure. He felt a sharper awareness of the surroundings including the vibration of the horses hooves in the distance, the way his faithful horse's muscles tensing and relaxing as he obeyed each command from his reins.

"At last, I found the location of their hiding place, I have to say the illusion they weaved to hide the village was impressive," the King watched Victor's expression, scrutinized every minute movement with an almost amused look on his face, "I sent them with the fastest horses a few nights ago, while the main demon troops are going to engage with our forces...they should be there soon."

 _He knew._  Victor's heart sank like a rock dropped into an endless ocean. H _e knew I was with the Order and the demons since the beginning._  After being by the King's side since he was eighteen as his guard, he knew all of the most intimate secrets within this Kingdom. The King would have told him. Despite the chaos within, Victor nodded, "may victory be upon us." He tugged on the reins of his horse and left the King's at a moderate pace.  _I have to warn Yura...Otabek was their only chance to make it to the hidden demon village in time._

Soon thereafter, a raven shot past the castle gates.

* * *

The pain rippled through her body in waves, Minako knew her baby was ready to meet the world. She wished Celestino was by her side, but he led the demons to war two days ago. She gripped onto the white sheets, waiting for the newest contraction to pass. Since their fire ceremony, the wedding custom in the demon world, their were connected. She could feel his anxiety and fierce determination. They haven't came up with a name for their unborn child yet. She wished she could help him in the battle, but her powers were needed here.

Along with Mari Katsuki, they were guardians of the secret demon village that expanded at a rapid rate since the Order of Wisteria joined the demons as more demons that were once slaves were set free by the Order. Mari's powers weaved a perfect illusion, merging the village seamlessly into its surrounding valley. Minako fortified a barrier around the that flawless image.

Panting while the contraction passed, she ran her hand along her swollen belly. She wondered if the baby would resemble a demon like Celestino with powers over ice, or like herself, a former Nikiforov mage. She gave up her world and a life of prestige to be with him, without regrets.

That was a choice she would have made over and over.

* * *

The demon soldiers charged before two armies collided, with Celestino at the helm. He wore heavy armours made of silver with a blue hue. Before he left the secret demon village Minako amplified the armour's powers with her loving touch. He conjured a sword made of ice out of midair.

The battlefield was only miles away from the city gates. Surrounding him, the horses's hooves sent mud, grass and pebbles flying. The distant drums resonated with every heart beat. Behind him, demons and shapeshifter followed, some choose to remain in their animal form, with sharpened claws and teeth. Others in their demi form that resembled humans, rode behind their leader.

He know there would be a fierce battle ahead, despite having brilliant strategists like Chris and Mila on their side, they were still outnumbered two to one. They set out camp three nights ago and stopped advancing to lure the enemy into a plain amidst the mountains and the ocean to fight to the demons' advantages. He and Chris agreed, destroying Lilith and Azriel was key to ending this war. And only the wielders of the three Sacred Swords could accomplish that task. Chris, Michele, and Yuuri would circle back to the enemy's rear with a team of elite soldiers and attack at nightfall.

Suddenly with the corner of his eyes he caught a glimpse of a raven landing onto his shoulder. He swung his sword of ice, impaling another enemy soldier clad in red. He tried his best to forget the texture he felt transmitted to his hand as his weapon pierced through flesh and blood.

"Phichit," he said to the raven, "what's going on?"

In his shapeshifter form, Phichit's voice trembled, " the village is under attack...we need reinforcements, Yura and Otabek are already on their way."

Celestino froze, around him blood spattered like rain, waves of heat, fire, claws and swords collided, "how many."

"Six hundred of their most elite soldiers, Lilith hid this plan from Victor," Phichit opened his dark wings in order to maintain balanced as Celestino's sword collided with the spear of another mage soldier.

"Send reinforcements, you take our fastest flying shapeshifters and leave now," he gave the command. Minako. He inhaled sharply, "we should be able to hold out until nightfall."

"But -" Phichit knew they were still outnumbered.

"Take them," there was finality in Celestino's voice, "this is a command".

"Celestino..." the raven by his ear whispered one last thing, "please for Minako's sake...don't be a hero."

Then like black lighting, he was gone.

* * *

Mari had just left Minako on her own from the noise of shouting outside.

Minako's contractions were getting closer together. Sweat drenched through her sheets. The ancient demon healer with leathery skin and deep, timeless, violet eyes named Kaede sat by her side.

Then she sensed it.

A crack in the barrier she created with magic. She conjured all of her powers before the next wave of pain came to reinforce that barrier, but she knew she needed to be closer.

They were under attack.

The Kaede placed her leathery hands into Minako's and squeezed and showered her with a calming spell.

Then her mage senses alerted her to another barrier surrounding the hut she was within. Its energy warm, soft yet strong at the same time. She wondered who could have been protecting her from the outside.

* * *

The battle raged on towards late afternoon, the grass tainted with oceans of blood and bodies of mages, horses, and demons alike. The demons and the Order were still outnumbered, especially with part of their forces gone back in order to protect the demon village alongside Phichit.

"We spotted Lilith," Nishigori in his full suit of armour swung his axe towards an enemy prior to approaching Celestino on the battlefield. He dodged a wave of white fire aimed at him from the nearest mage.

Celestino nodded, fatigue was catching up with him but he couldn't let it show. He wished he could lose his sense of smell at this time because the blood the burnt flesh, and death was overwhelming, "Take your division and the masters of the swords, we will hold the front here and not let them get in your way." He sent another wave of ice, conjured from the vapours of thin air and transformed them into arrows that rained down upon the enemy. He saw the number of his soldiers dwindling, "go, because destroying Lilith and Azriel could end this war."

Nishigori nodded, there was blood splattered on the horns on his head resembling a ram.

* * *

Kaede wiped the blood from the baby's skin, as she let out her first powerful cry. Minako smiled through her tears. She and Celestino hasn't decided on a name yet before she left. She touched her tiny cheeks. the baby had a full head of brown hair, the same shade as hers. And in one of her quiet moments when she opened her eyes, she gazed into the most beautiful shade of lapis, like her father's.

Her smile faded because through her connection with Celestino after they were bound by fire, she felt his soul waver.

"Celestino, no, please don't go...our daughter is waiting for you...and I have a name..." tears streamed down her cheeks, "her name is Maeve!" Named after a wildflower and a goddess from the ancient legends. She was still bleeding but she didn't care. Kaede wrapped an arm around her.

* * *

As Celestino's vision left him, he saw with the corner of his eyes sails and banners of ships pulling into the harbour. The massive fleet closed in without a visible end. On those banners were white tigers amidst lilac of the Wisteria. He knew, reinforcement arrived. Loki, Yura's father, the white tiger of the south, stayed true to his words.

He closed his eyes. He could feel Minako's presence because they were bounded by the ceremony with the Firestones.  _Her name is Maeve!_  He smiled as warm blood trickled down the front of his armour soaking through his uniform. The ice sword in his hand shattered. He clutched his hand towards the his heart where the spear laced with magic pierced through, the same place where Minako touched the armour infusing it with her magic. M _aeve. I want you to be brave, I want you to always smile...in this brand new world we created..._

His vision turned black.

* * *

Sounds of arrows, screams, and swords colliding surrounded her.

Despite Kaede's protest, Minako put a temporary spell on herself to let the bleeding stop. She pulled open the door with her sword within her grasp, and came face to face with the little demon with golden hair and a red streak at the front. He was the one who conjured the barrier so she could bring Maeve into the world.

"Minami," Minako wiped her face, "thank you," she squeezed his shoulder, "I have to go...please...protect my daughter." She thrusted a bundle into his arms.

He couldn't speak, because Lilith cut his tongue off, but he understood. He shrunk the size of his barrier, until a faint orange glow surrounded himself and Maeve, becoming more compact and more potent than ever before. Minako knew he was stronger than he looked, because he survived being Azriel's slave for more than half of his life. She trusted him.

She ran towards the mages mounting the attack, sword drawn, and she tapped into all of the magic within herself. Out of the corner of her eyes, her heart shattered as she saw Mari lying in a pool of blood.

* * *

Otabek took the form of a dark dragon this time, with Yura on his back. His majestic leather wings casted an enormous shadow on the meadows and rolling hills he flew over. They set out as soon as Phichit relayed Victor's message.

Yura's heart pounded while he prayed they would make it in time. Seven of the King's fiercest generals were on their way to the secret village of the demons. He clung onto Otabek's back as the cool air sent his golden locking whipping around his face. He no longer wore red, the colour of the Nikiforov Mages.

He saw fire emerging from houses and sound of screams as they approached the demons' sanctuary, previously protected by Mari's flawless illusion and Minako's impeccable barrier. His grip tightened. He saw Yuuko, who had powers over the plants, conjuring spiked roots and vines from the earth that wrapped around the enemies' waist before she tossed them. She had fierce determination written on her face. More enemy soldiers spilled through the broken part of Minako's barrier. Some Mages conjured white fire with their palms to deepen the chasm on the wall thick with magic.

Otabek opened his mouth and breathed fire on the army of Mages, scattering them, disrupting their formation. Some burnt, but most put up their own shields against the fire.

Yura scanned the ground until he found Minako running towards the edge of the barrier. He knew she needed time, and he could buy her that time. He closed his eyes, felt the wind with a tinge of coolness on his face and grasped onto the reins of time, all except for the space around her.

Minako's determined eyes met his for a brief moment as she headed straight into the area where the enemies congregated in order to breach the barrier.

Otabek unleashed another wall of flames, clearing her way.

Yura watched the breach in the barrier surrounding the last safe place for the demons shrunk until it disappeared. Beads of perspiration dotted his forehead from tapping into his power to stop time. He couldn't hold it any longer.

One of the King's generals saw him from below and screamed, "traitor!" He ignored him. He knew it was a matter of time before the enemies broke the invisible wall again, but this bought the young and the old enough time to disappear into the secret passages into the mountains. The Mage soldiers concentrated their powers to one spot, chipping away at the shield once again. The air filled with power and waves of magic distorting reality.

On the other side of the barrier, the demons gathered to fight, knowing that they were out numbered, knowing that they would be sacrificed. Otabek descended as he dodged spears thrown towards his wings laced with destructive magic. One of them skimmed them by hair widths.

"Beka, be careful," Yura stroked the scales on his shoulders.

Minako's shield broke a second time, as the red clad mages spilled into the village. Minako's sword clashed with its leader's axe, beside being powerful mage trained by the Nikiforov family, she was also a warrior.

Otabek flew dangerously close to the ground as his fire pushed the mage soldiers back before making a sharp ascend. There was a sharp clank sound as Yura deflected one of the spears meant to pierce Otabek's neck with his sword.

Right before the entire barrier crumbled, a raven darted inside the village, and with a snapping sound, Phichit stool tall in a suit of light armour, and a black spear in his hand. His speed was unparalleled, his dark eyes relentless between his dark brows. He charged towards the King's forces invading his home. Behind him, wings dotted the horizon, his army of flying demons were minutes behind him.

Minako let out a sigh of relief, as help was on their way. With the flying demons and Yura buying time, at least most of the children escaped into the mountains.

That was good enough for her.

Arrows descended like the rain. Yura had to pull on the reins of time once more for the demons at the forefront of the battle to escape. He had never stopped time on a radius this wide in the past. Heaviness filled his body as if replacing his blood with melting lead. But as he let go, a single spear pierced through Otabek's wings making a sickening sound.

In his dragon form, Otabek let out a pained shriek, but he ignored it and and kept Yura on his back. They were both falling, plummeting headfirst towards the ground. Otabek transformed back to his human form in midair and wrapped his good arm around Yura, protecting him even now. Just before they hit the ground, Yura made time slow down and broke Otabek's fall with his own body.

They rolled down the slope of hill away from the battlefield, clinging onto teach other until their entire body ached from the impact.

Overhead flying shapeshifters joined the battle, some in the form of griffins, gargoyles and dragons. Lesser Demons from the forest also followed them. Their sheer numbers overwhelming the late afternoon sun like an eclipse.

Yura wrapped an arm around Otabek's waist, there was a smear of dirt on his face, as they headed towards the demon village. They lost the track of time amidst the chaos, the clash of magic, swords and claws. Smoke rose from the broken houses. Bodies of mages, demons, and shapeshifters alike littered the ground smeared with burn marks. The flowers in Yuuko's garden trampled with petals scattered. Yura felt as if he was being torn apart from the sight, but relieved that none of the bodies were children.  _This war needs to end..._

By the new quietness washing over the village, once teeming with life, Yura realized this battle was over.

A short distance away, Phichit was on his knees, and tears streamed down his face as he held Minako. There was an arrow stuck in her chest. Her brown eyes wide, her expression soft, a hint of of hope hung at the corner of her lips into an almost smile. With a gentle motion, Phichit closed her eyes.

Yura looked away.

Then he saw a little demon on the ground, using his own body to protect something.

Otabek stretched out his uninjured arm and pulled Minami up. He gazed down at the bundle in the younger boy's arms. Otabek had never felt so broken until this moment. The expression of pain was written all over his usual stoic mask.

It was a baby. Minako's daughter. She became an orphan on the same day as her birthday. He cradled her into his arms, her deep blue eyes the same shade as Celestino's and her full head of brown hair like his mother. Her tiny stubborn fingers closed around Otabek's and refused to let go. She watched him struggle and giggled.

Minami picked up a nearby stick and scribbled her name into the dirt: Maeve.

"Maeve," Otabek held her closer to his chest. With a trembling finger, Yura stroked her tiny cheek. She turned towards him and made a happy gurgling sound.

"Beka...this is all too cruel," Yura turned around all of a sudden his curtain of golden locks followed him, his green eyes hard.

With the demons watching him, he knew he couldn't show his emotions. Otabek knew he was shedding tears on the inside.

"Beka, you are still bleeding," Yura frowned, he but a corner of his tunic with his teeth and the air was filled with a ripping sound.

The silence was too loud their ears.

Otabek didn't protest as he held Maeve with one arm and watched Yura wrap the white fabric around his other applying the right amount of pressure to make the bleeding stop.

* * *

Night had fallen, at last Otabek and Yura were alone. The old healer with violet eyes and one million lines on her face from the demon village redressed Otabek's arm, and warned him not to use it sternly from under her hooked nose and hooded eyes. She refused to let him out of her sight and to think about returning to the battlefield in the city all day. Otabek knew she meant business and didn't protest. He also knew he and Yura needed to stay, in case more mages were on their way. Waves of fatigue made every fibre of his body heavy.

A large wooden bucket filled with warm bath water sat in the middle of the small hut with steam rising from its surface.

"Beka, you can go first," Yura avoided his gaze. They were used to seeing each other in various stages of nakedness in the past, since Yura was thirteen when they first met and Otabek was his slave. He had memories of him being forced to wash Yura's hair when they first met and the demon manacles around his wrist sensed his desire to snap Yura's neck and sent shockwaves of white hot pain to his hands as if they were on fire. That memory seemed like a lifetime ago. Otabek smiled a little thinking of how much Yura had grown.

Yura blushed when he realized Otabek couldn't remove his tunic because his arm was immobilized. They knew, the old healer meant business and her handy work was not to be tampered with. He took a few steps forwards until he faced him, still avoiding eye contact, "I'll...help," The hint of pink on his pale cheeks deepened. Slowly he undid Otabek's buttons one by one. His fingers brushed past bare skin on Otabek's sculpted chest.

Otabek didn't say anything, he let Yura peel his tunic off him revealing his bare back, where deep scars crisscrossed in different directions from the days when he was captured and sold by slave traders. He conjured a void in place of those memories because there were things a hundred times worse than the physical pain they inflicted.

Yura dropped the tangled black fabric onto the ground next to his armor. He ran his hand over his scars making Otabek's skin tingle, "I'm sorry...we did this to you." Yura's fingers traced down to his mid back, he wrapped his arms around Beka's waist from behind him and he rested the side of his cheek against his scars. Then he traced those ridged and thickened part with his lips, slowly and over every line.

Otabek shook his head and interlaced his fingers within Yura's with his good arm, "it led me to you," he slowly turned around, not letting go of Yura's slender fingers.

Yura took one step forwards, thrown himself against Otabek's firm chest and pressed his lips against his until there were no space between them. He clawed his other hand through Otabek's dark locks.

Otabek kissed him back with the same amount of desire and of desperation, breathing the air from his lungs. When they broke apart, they were both breathless with flushed cheeks. Yura was glad Otabek stepped into the large bucket with the rest of his clothes on because otherwise he was afraid that he would lose complete control.

_Maybe when, and if the war is over, and we could have a few moments called our own...I will give myself to you..._

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Sorry if I ripped your heart out...

I wanted to blur the lines between good and evil and create a world where demons could be like Yuuri, and angels ignorant and twisted. I also didn't want the villains to be pure evil, instead having a side that was almost human and vulnerable. Azriel was in love with Victor's mother (if you recall), he created the sculptures in her likeness outside of the city). And Lilith, you met him here as a child, his past was not that different from Yuuri's except Yuuri met Victor. Despite Yuuri didn't actually need Victor to save his life in the first chapter, in a strange way, Victor did save him from the fate of the master of the Demon Sword after all.

Let me know what you think!

-A

**Chapter 15: Demon Song**


	15. Demon Song

**Three to stand between Light and the Darkness**

**Three swords that choose their wielders**

**One from the Skies stained with Angel blood**

**One from the Earth consuming its masters**

**One from the Stars hidden in the Riddler's cradle**

**Three less one and the darkness reigns**

* * *

Demons surrounded him, at his flank and overhead. He tried to send smaller ones away because he didn't want their blood to spill, but they choose to stay. He rode his horse midst feathers, scales and claws, Yuuri was the prince loved by demons after all.

Nox casted a dark black shadow onto the ground next to Yuuri. As the demon prince found his powers, she begun to transform as well. She was once the serpent that refused to leave his side and protected him when Minako sealed his memories and his powers after his parents were executed. Now her black scales glistened in her dragon form, her vermillion eyes shone with determination to end this war.

Chris rode on a horse nearby with Mila following closely behind him. He watched the demon prince with fascination behind his timeless golden gaze. Not even Mila and Victor knew where Chris came from or whether he was a demon, a mage or an angel. He had always avoided that topic. He told Mila that if he cared about her any less, he would have told her the truth. To which she grudgingly stopped asking, but Chris knew it was a matter of time before she would again and he sighed. He tried to force distance between them, but he found himself returning to her side as a moth to a flame.

Michele's white horse galloped behind them, he hid his wings this time. He wasn't sure if after declaring his involvement with the war and with the stolen sword from the Elder angels whether he was still allowed to return to the Northern Peaks. He didn't care. He couldn't dispel the image of Rochelle in her armour out of his mind. Her dark-red hair in a neat braid, her stance fierce, her skills with the swords second to only perhaps Victor. He wore a suit of armours that was white and gold, with the sacred sword that cut off countless angels' wings in his right hand.

Spearheaded by the most elite troops along their sides they rode through the sea of flesh and blood paved by sacrifices from demons and the Order alike. They knew the three swords must be present to defeat the Greater Ones like Lilith and Azriel.

Yuuri wondered where Victor was amidst the chaos.  _Did he need to be a part of this battle? Was he fighting on their side._  Beads of sweat coated his forehead. The sword whispered to him,  _kill them...kill them all..._ each time fatigue caught up with him or he had a moment of weakness, the evil sword took full advantage of that. He ignored its seductive whispers.

A glimmer of gold caught his attention, the King, with Lilith inside his body, clad in a suit of armour outshining the sun. He knew his battle was drawing near. He ached as the winged demon next to his ear let out an earth shattering cry of pain as an arrow pierced its body and its dark blood tinted with a blue hue splashed onto his face.

With an elegant swift strike of the Sword of Halfmoon, there was not a single shadow on the bloody battlefield. Blinding light erupted from white blade in Chris's left hand in a spreading arc sweeping over the mage soldiers ahead of them, other than flinching from the blinding rays, they weren't hurt. Some appeared dazed and confused because only moments ago they were possessed by the Fallen. Chris's sword freed them, repelling the hideous creatures that were hardly visible from their bodies.

As the Fallen shrieked and hissed with rage, Michele lifted his sacred blade of Justice, and they banished into nothingness.

They could hear Nishigori shouting behind them, into the confused mages that were set free, "put down your weapons and you will not be punished." Some continued attacking the swarm of demons out of primitive life preserving reflexes, others dropped their blades and retracted the glow of a pending attack from their palms. With his large hands, Nishigori conjured glowing green shields around those who surrendered as the effect of his magic put them to sleep. It was Mila's idea, to prevent further bloodshed.

Yuuri's horse stopped twenty feet away from Lilith and Azriel. Victor had told him over and over that the King was a fine swordsman whose skills were close to Victor's level. Yuuri remembered the way Victor taught him how to fight when they first met, he was a strict coach. Yuuri smiled a little thinking about the time Victor asked him to run until his lungs were on fire. Grasping onto the strength Victor had given him, the sword's whispers became more distant than ever before.

Time seemed to slow down as he approached the King, "Lilith," with Nox in her dragon form above him, clearing the way as the nearby soldiers flinched and dropped their shields and fled, "it ends here." Yuuri raised his sword.

With a smug look on his face from the slips of his helmet, the Lilith laughed.

 _Clank!_  The impact from their swords silenced everything else on the battlefield.

Yuuri unmounted because he couldn't bear sacrificing the life of his horse like this. The faithful creature glanced at him for a moment of hesitation and Yuuri nodded as it galloped away.

With his left hands Yuuri connected to his powers of the earth, turning the ground around them into an ocean of lava, separating them from the rest of the battlefield.

Not taken by surprise, Lilith struck again, with twice Yuuri's speed, he has every advantage because he was still on horseback. Yuuri had just enough time to deflect the sudden attack.  _What would Victor do?_ He imagined Victor's lithe figure before him, showing him each move.

Then out of fear, Lilith's steed clad in matching armour gave in. It kicked up its front legs out of fear because the dark ground beneath them was glowing with orange lava, as if they were in the mouth of a volcano about to unleash its fury. Yuuri saw the King's eyebrows furl with fury as he leapt off.

They stood face to face, with the bubbling lava surrounding them, glowing orange and turning black as it cooled.

Lilith growled with rage, as at last he regarded Yuuri as an equal. Like lightning, his sword struck again, sending sparks from the dark blade of the Demon Sword. The sword whispered,  _Yuuri, give me your mind...let me kill for you...it'll be easy..._

Beads of perspiration dotted Yuuri's forehead.

 _Silence._  Yuuri said to his sword in his mind.

Suddenly he realized he wasn't the only one uttering those words. The Demon sword not only whispered to him, it gave him visions as well.

 _Silence._  He heard the voice of Lilith as a child also speak to the sword, accompanied by all of its previous masters that started with kindness but succumbed to its seductive whispers of power and was written in history as cold blooded killers. Yuuri could sense their presence behind him, surrounding him with their invisible warmth. He saw with the corner of his eyes the ten year old version of Lilith nodding at him. _Yuuri, try to draw blood with this sword, let me show him something._

Yuuri nodded.

He charged towards Lilith, with new determination. He had to shake away the image of the execution of his parents ordered by the Fallen before him. Lilith was once tempted by the Demon Sword too. He pretended that Victor was here guiding his every move, he aimed for the weakness on the King's armour below the shoulder after feigning an attack that Victor called "an amateur mistake".

The moment the tip of Demon blade was painted red, Lilith's shuddered. Because the sword imparted visions upon him when its edge drew made contact with flesh.

Yuuri saw the child version of Lilith with sad dark eyes walk towards the King. Heat from the lava illuminated his ghostly presence. The child spoke, "there's something I wanted to show you."

Flashing before Yuuri and Lilith was the scene where Yuuri saved the child form of himself from being stoned to death because demons loved him.

"It wasn't your fault," wind sent the child's dark brown translucent locks flying, "you didn't have to the way you are now...it was the evil inside the sword that broke you."

"It wasn't your fault," the other masters of the sword echoed they stood behind Yuuri in their translucent forms.

Lilith lowered his sword arm for a moment, he lifted his helmet with his other hand and threw it onto the ground, sizzling as its tassels touched the cooling lava at their feet sending a wisp of smoke into the air. His eyes met the child's - ten year old version of himself. Then his blue gaze transfixed upon Yuuri's crimson orbs, there was a single moment of remorse, of empathy that flashed between them.

"Lilith," Yuuri uttered his name, fatigue and the heat of this battle wore into him despite of the fact the man standing before him started the war, killed his parents, Yuuri knew of the darkness that lived inside the very sword he wielded, "I forgive you."

Then the voice of the sword stopped forever. Yuuri realized at last the meaning behind the prophecy: to be wielded by a master untainted by hatred.

At that moment Lilith looked...vulnerable.

Then several things happened at once.

That brief moment of connection was gone, Lilith picked up his sword again and plunged it straight into Yuuri's chest. The Demon Sword acted in its own will protecting its true master as Yuuri's weapon pierced through Lilith's armor, then flesh making a sickening sound.

Yuuri could never forget the sensation warm blood splashing onto his hair and his face and its metallic taste, he didn't know if it belonged to Lilith or himself. White hot pain inches from his heart and hot liquid poured out of him in spurts, soaking his black armour.

Lilith stumbled backward and fell, his blue eyes wide. His dented golden armour made a clanking sound as his back impacted the ground, everywhere his body impacted smoke rose from the lava field that oozed like orange and black snakes that swallowed everything along the way.

Pain made Yuuri's vision black, he sank onto one knee and supported his weight with the Demon Sword that no longer whispered. He watched as the ghostly forms of all of the sword's previous masters. Walking towards the orange colour of the setting sun, nodding at him with thanks. The child form of Lilith kneeled and closed the King's eyes, "thank you, Yuuri, for setting us free."

Despite the excruciating pain, Yuuri smiled, "I will destroy this sword once and for all."

With his last bit of strength he propped himself up. Behind him he saw the body of Victor's father - whose body Azriel resided within - lying face down. Michele and Chris on either side of him, panting, with their swords in their hands.

Out of the corner of Yuuri's eyes, he saw the flags of the Order with a white tiger surrounded by Wisteria flying high, from Loki's ships. Most of the mages have surrendered, as Rochelle's voice carried across the battlefield, "put down your weapons, and you will not be punished."

 _Victor...it's really over._  Yuuri's vision gave out. He wanted to wake up in Victor's arms more than anything...If he'd wake up at all.

* * *

An arrow whistled past the chaos against the tree Victor and his horse stood right before his eyes. He knew it was no accident. Moments before hope swelled inside him. The centaurs came to their aid as well as Loki's fleet from the south. The mages were surrendering, as Chris and Michele repelled the Fallen that latched onto their bodies.

Tied to the arrow with red strings was a scroll. He knew it was meant for him.

His blood ran cold as all colour as drained from his face. It was in his father's writing, from Lilith.

**Victor,**

**I applaud the valiant effort by the 3 swords-masters.**

**I knew your real father was searching my mind for weaknesses, so I entertained him with the prophecy of the Three.**

**Before his body gave out, I left him, and showed him that I am still here.**

**He was brave man.**

**And I know you are as well.**

**As you know, I cannot exist for long without a body.**

**Naturally there's no better host than you.**

**All of the young mages are in the dungeons, with hay drenched with oil on all sides. If you do not grant my request, they will die, then city burns with them.**

**Any funny business, they will die. Try to send someone to rescue them, they will die.**

**You have till dawn.**

**See you at the Gardens.**

* * *

"Yes, Azriel was destroyed too," Victor couldn't bring himself to tell Yuuri the truth, Yuuri defeated Lilith, and as for Azriel, it was Victor's battle. It broke him inside because he didn't want Yuuri to fight again with his wounds that opened with the slightest movement. Victor couldn't bear that thought of losing him. He knew Yuuri would sacrifice himself without hesitation if he knew that Azriel was still out there.

"That's good," Yuuri leaned against Victor's chest, the grey color on his skin from wrestling with the evil emanating from the sword now fading at last.

"We can now think of how to get rid of this sword, Yuuri," Victor held him, with his back against their tree. One thing he hated himself for not telling Yuuri the truth, but what choice did he have, "it's cold here, let's go inside."

"Is it really over?" Another gush of wind sent Yuuri's dark locks flying. Yuuri's breaths were still shallow and uneven from the amount of blood he lost. Despite he was still delirious from pain, he hesitated. He read Victor's thoughts as if Victor was an open book.

"Yes..." Victor laced one arm behind his knees and the other around his shoulders and lifted him.  _Yuuri, let me protect you one last time...I'm so sorry...I can't let you fight like this._

The way Yuuri's piercing crimson eyes sparkled from the reflection of the stars broke Victor down completely. While carrying Yuuri in his arms, Victor buried his face into the right side of Yuuri's chest.

He told him everything.

"You...are going," Yuuri's voice ended in a whisper.

Victor squeezed his eyes shut tight, inhaling Yuuri's familiar scent, "I am the only one who could end this once and for all."

Hot drops fell into his silvery locks, "the selfish part of me...had always imagined what if you weren't the heir of the Nikiforov mages and I wasn't the demon prince, what if...we were ordinary. We can travel the world, grow old together...I...don't want you to be a hero Victor...because heroes die young...because heroes aren't happy."

Victor could not speak.

Yuuri's head pressed against his light armor, his face brushed against his own Firestone suspended from Victor's neck, still delirious from the pain, Yuuri whispered into his chest, "Victor...put me down, let's...light a fire..."

Victor's eyes stung, he needed every excuse to get away at this moment, "I'll do it." With a small warm white flame he conjured with his palm he picked up fallen branches of various sizes and piled them.

He carried Yuuri to the edge of the cliff, where millions of stars were painted across the sky.

"You ready?" with one hand, Yuuri clutched his wound on this chest, trying to minimize the amount of blood seeping through his bandages, he stood up. Victor wrapped his arms around him and nodded, a few silver strands fell before his eyes.

Victor did the bravest thing he had ever done: he smiled, "let's not think about sad things tonight."

He didn't care about what was to come, he wished time would stop and he could live in the next moments forever. He let Yuuri unclasp the chain that hung around suspending the Firestone. Somehow this was a gesture more intimate than anything he had ever experienced.

Yuuri then dropped the Firestone into Victor's hand, it shone bright against the fire, illuminating the laces of crimson beneath its sapphire surface.

Victor let go of its comforting, familiar weight. His lips parted in awe as the flame before them transformed into the same shade as the stone. According to the demons' legends the Firestone was a physical manifestation of Yuuri's soul. The heat of the fire transformed into gentle warmth and erupting all of a sudden until it was more than ten feet in height. He felt as if Yuuri's entire being surrounded him, beckoning him to take a step into the endless blue. Victor gasped at the vibrant colours unfolding before him.

Yuuri smiled back, with a little hint of shyness, he held his right hand with Victor's ring on it. The sapphire flames' reflected from its perfect circle without a beginning or an end.

Still wearing his crimson gloves because otherwise their skin would burn, Victor removed the ring from the fourth finger of Yuuri's left hand, his own trembled a little. He picked up Yuuri's left hand and slid it onto his ring finger.

By mages' tradition they were now bound for life.

Yuuri interlaced his hand within Victor's and together they stepped into the fire.

Warmth the same temperature as Yuuri's hand enveloped Victor's entire being. Shivers ran down his spine as he could hear the thumping of Yuuri's heart reverberating in this space. He caught glimpses of Yuuri's memories, as if they were no longer separate but two raindrops merging into one.

He saw himself through Yuuri's eyes on the first day they met. His hair past his waist, his chest proud. He had never seen himself looking like that, his own eyes like the summer ocean and his hair like twilight. Yuuri wondered if he was an angel in that memory. He wasn't wrong.

Flashed before his mind, he watched Yuuri wait for him in anticipation every year on the day they promised to meet. He saw Yuuri jumping naked into the lake beforehand. He felt pain rippling through Yuuri's body when he discovered he had wings and when his memories returned to him, and the twisting agony when Yuuri decided he couldn't meet Victor again given who they were and that they were born to be enemies. He caught glimpses of every year around the near the time they promised to meet Yuuri shed silent tears alone at night. He felt the relief through Yuuri when they reunited when Yuuri pretended to be captured by the mage. Yuuri's happiness then sent a wave of warmth coursing through him, familiar and kind. He relived those stolen moments in the rain, where the sky wept and made peace with the earth.

They emerged from the other side, he wanted to linger inside the fire, shrouded by Yuuri's entire being, heartbeat, and breaths.

New air filled his lungs, as if he emerged after a long dive or being reborn, fresh, new and complete. Yuuri squeezed his hand and said a phrase in the demons' tongue:  _with neither beginning nor end, for this lifetime and next._

Rochelle taught him the demons' languages, though he struggled with putting the words together. He understood.

"Victor," Yuuri pulled his interlaced fingers towards his chest, "make it rain." This was neither a command nor a request.

"But your injuries -" before Victor could finish, Yuuri held up a finger to his lip without touching. Shivers ran down Victor's spine.

"I don't care.." Yuuri shook his head.  _Victor, I want this...more than anything._  Yuuri said with his crimson irises transfixed upon his.

_Let's not think about sad things tonight._

Then a whirl of wind sent Yuuri's dark locks flying along with a few stray orange leaves of the early fall. They followed the sound of wingbeats and found Nox soaring higher and higher.

"She's beautiful," Victor pulled Yuuri against his chest, "I remember when we first met, she was a small serpent back then." He recalled the serpent that never left Yuuri's side always disappeared at the right time, when they wanted a few stolen moments alone.  _I guess I have her permission_ , Victor amused himself for a second.  _Let's not think about sad things tonight._

"She's one of the Ancients, probably one of the last remaining," Yuuri nestled his head between the nape of Victor's neck and his broad shoulders. He didn't need to continue because they both knew demons were being hunted like animals.

Nox's magnificent wings disturbed the water vapors suspended above them. Then clouds begun to gather around her. Victor's heart pounded against his chest as he realized, Nox was making rain...in his place.

"See, she's on my side," Yuuri broke into a mischievous smile tinted with sadness, of the sacrifices from war, of the families torn apart, of what remains of the demon village, and his fatigue from the sleepless nights wrestling with the Demon Sword. Yuuri thrusted the string fastening his traveling cloak near his neck to Victor.

_Let's not think about sad things tonight._

Victor surrendered and pulled.

More clouds gathered above, obscuring the stars.

He gave Yuuri complete control, his hand was as gentle possible as he peeled Yuuri's wet tunic from his chest still wrapped in bandages as curtains of rain splashed upon them.

Yuuri unclasped Victor's light armor and set it next to them on the grass. Next Victor's buttons at the top of his crimson uniform came undone. Yuuri bit the fabric at his waist and pushed it up until he revealed Victor's bare chest. His lips made little noises against Victor's sculpted muscles, pale against the darkness around them, protected by the rain. Unlike the first hint of chill of beginning of October, Nox's rain was warm as a midsummer's night.

Yuuri's left a trail of marks along Victor's skin, as Victor's back arched with pleasure as Yuuri's sprawled on top of him and his tongue glided over his nipples.

Victor closed his hand around Yuuri and begun to stroke him with a rhythmic motion as Yuuri leaned down and sealed his lips with a kiss. With his hot breaths on Victor's face, Yuuri slipped his tongue inside Victor's mouth as he tilted Victor's chin up, impatient and laced with desire. His other hand slid down Victor's waist and past his buttocks.

Victor's lips parted and a small moan escaped his throat as Yuuri slipped his first finger in. After their new connection forged by the Fire ceremony he could in part experience the pleasure from Yuuri's perspective. His kiss deepened. His hands slowed down otherwise Yuuri would be over the edge. He stroked Yuuri's back, and ran his gentle hands over his soaking bandages. He wanted to kiss every inch of him but was afraid of breaking him at the same time.

Both breathless, they parted for a brief moment before Yuuri slipped his second finger in and watched Victor's expression.

Victor bit Yuuri's lip sending waves of pleasure rippling through Yuuri's body. His heel dug into the back of Yuuri's thighs and he straddled him from beneath.

"I'm...ready," Victor whispered into the darkness, his hand that was closed around Yuuri loosened, a glistening trail lingering on his palm.

Yuuri nodded, his neck covered from marks from Victor's kisses, he propped himself up with one hand pinning Victor's shoulder on the ground and with the other, palm facing down he interlaced his fingers within Victor's and squeezed tight. Victor remembered a similar time on their first night together, except he was on top asking Yuuri over and over if he had hurt him.

Then the muscles of his inner thighs tensed as Yuuri pushed forward with gentleness, he then relaxed to let Yuuri in and the pain passed.

Yuuri tilted his chin to the sky and covered his own lips with his hand as he muffled his own cries with the flood of sensations flowing through him as they joined, without beginning or end.

Victor squeezed his eyes shut and clawed into the wet grass beneath his fingers.

Time seemed irrelevant.

_Let's not think about sad things tonight._

Victor spilled warmth on top of his own abdomen as Yuuri let go inside. Fingers still interlaced, Yuuri rested his head on Victor's bare shoulders next to his accelerated pulse. Victor kissed the top of Yuuri's head and listened to the sound of rain soften around them and the starlight re-emerging from the clouds

Still naked, Victor draped their wet clothes onto one arm and wrapped his other around Yuuri's waist. He leapt down from the cliff's edge onto the ledge leading to the cave: a place where Yuuri used to call home when the villagers shunned him.

He lit a fire with his hand and propped their clothes on branches next to it to dry. He saw fatigue catching up to Yuuri as he put on his gloves and changed Yuuri's bandages across this chest. Surrounding the wound next to his heart, the old bandages were soaked in different shades of fresh and coagulated blood.

"Yuuri, go to sleep," He finished and he draped his crimson cloak around Yuuri. Victor finally knew all of the words to Demon Song, the ancient lullaby in the demons' tongue. He thought of Rochelle who taught him the words, who once walked upon the aftermath of a battle and sang to the dying demons their own song so they would not be along prior to their lives extinguishing like a meteor amidst the abyss. With Yuuri's head resting in his lap inside the cave where Yuuri lived when they first met. The fire warming the chill of October. Yuuri closed his eyes.

With a gloved hand, Victor traced his outline, from the side of his cheeks, to the nape of his neck.

Victor begun to sing that melody now no longer forbidden, with the feeling of Yuuri still lingering inside his body. He watched the even rise and fall of Yuuri's chest, his face peaceful, after becoming the Master of the Demon Sword the nightmares stopped, this must be one of the first nights where Yuuri didn't have visions of the previous wielders ending innocent lives.

Yuuri didn't wake up to the hot drops of tears that weren't his own rolling off his cheeks.  _Yuuri, I am sorry...this wasn't the way I wanted to say goodbye._

Victor sighed, as he sang Demon Song a second time, making excuses in his mind to watch Yuuri sleep a little longer, clinging onto the duration of the song.

Yuuri stirred, one of his hands wrapped around Victor's hand in his slumber from weeks of sleepless nights, and he wasn't letting go. He wasn't making this any easier.

Victor sang the song one last time, until his voice broke, he couldn't continue any longer, until his vision turned hot and blurry, until he could almost hear his own heart shattering as he withdrew his hand from Yuuri's grip and Yuuri grasped the air next to the ground for a brief moment as if saying:  _stay_.

* * *

"There's nothing I can say to convince you otherwise," there was finality in her tone. 

"Rochelle, will you promise me two things?"

"Of course," her hand rested on his shoulder. She knew this was goodbye.

"That my father would be remembered as a hero," Victor picked up his faithful sword and fastened it to his belt.

Rochelle nodded. She stepped forwards and pulled Victor into a tight embrace.

"Tell Yakov to not feel guilty, I acted in my own will and tell him that I am sorry," He wrapped his arms around her, "and to you, I am sorry, for everything, that you had to be married to me and that I couldn't give you anything more."

Rochelle pulled back and shook her head, a few of her loose strands from her dark red braid parted to one side fell in front of her eyes, "you are my friend, the only person in this kingdom who could defeat me in a sword fight...that's more than enough for me." She didn't loosen her grip around his shoulders.

A wave of warmth washed over him, "thank you...and take care of yourself," Victor broke into a sad smile as he walked away with slow even steps.

Rochelle's vision blurred as she watched his back.  _Victor, I swear I will take care of the young mages, I will set them free at dawn._

One of the vials from Yakov's shelf was missing. The most mysterious, deadly, and forbidden potion. Soulbinder.

Victor took it without the old apothecary noticing. His hands closed in around the glass and squeezed tight.

* * *

 

He arrived at the clearing, where Azriel created marble statues in the likeness of his mother. He never knew someone capable of such cruelty could create such works of beauty.

The cork of the vial he had stolen from Yakov gave way with ease and disappeared into the grass. That tiny vial stood between darkness and light. Soulbinder, a potion so forbidden that Yakov was thrown from the Northern Peaks into exile for its creation.

Without hesitation, Victor brought the grey liquid colour of death to his lips and tilted his head back. Its bitter taste lingered on his lips, still sensitive from the fierce way Yuuri kissed him only hours before.  _Azriel_ , he welcomed the cold poison spreading through his veins,  _it ends here_. He clung onto the lingering sensation of Yuuri inside him instead.

Victor released his faithful sword fastened to his side and laid it onto the ground.

Azriel stood next to the statue of Victor's mother, longing filled his face. He was no longer in the body of Victor's father, but a spirit form impregnated with hunger of claiming a new and powerful host. Victor could see him now because he became connected with the angel side of his powers.

Victor wasn't afraid. He wasn't surprised that his father made the conscious decision to turn over his body to Azriel. It made perfect sense. His father was the bravest man he had ever known. He knew if he attached Azriel he would send a signal and to burn down the city and the young mages.

"A wise choice, Victor Nikiforov," Azriel's flashed a cold smile that didn't reach his eyes, "you are as brave as your father."

Victor didn't accept his complement, "get on with it." The breeze swept his silvery locks sideways. Victor closed his eyes.

"With pleasure," Azriel, in his ghostly form glided towards him, "any last words? Messages you want to send to loved ones?"

Victor shook his head, his chin high in defiance.

Coldness and pain ripped through his body like he had never experienced before.  _This potion would bring excruciating pain, resembling having every one ripped from the body..._ he remembered Yakov's words. He felt as if he was slowly being ripped into pieces. He felt Azriel's soul expand into every part of his body as if putting him on like a glove.

White hot pain flashed before his mind, but he focused on the image of Yuuri falling asleep in his arms, and the melody of Demon Song, a lullaby no longer forbidden.

"Actually I do have a few last words...I am taking you with me," He smiled when he sensed Azriel's rage as he came to realize the effect of Soulbinder and that Victor was dying, and the poison tethered Azriel to him without escape, and that he was fading too.

That smile never left Victor's face, because the last image he saw through Azriel's eyes was of his mother, the only one who treated Azriel, an outcast in the world, with kindness. She was the mirror image of the garden of statues that Azriel created in her memory. Her golden hair soft, her azure eyes kind. Their love for her was the only thing Victor and Azriel had in common.

_Mother...I'm glad, I can finally see you._

_And Yuuri..._

_I love you._

Victor opened his arms and embraced the darkness before his back slid from the marble statue of his mother gazing lovingly into the distance, his head rested by her feet, with the ghost of his smile on his face.


	16. Forest Between Darkness and Light

When Yuuri woke up, he sensed it because of their connection forged by the fire: Victor was gone.

The emptiness eroded him from within, one hundred times worse than the gaping wound on his chest .

Yuuri knew exactly where Victor was because of their bond. He also knew no matter what he said or done, Victor would not change his mind. The world around him lost its colour and became a blur of shades of grey and movements. Yuuri had no recollection of himself running towards the gardens where Azriel created sculptures of Victor's mother's likeness.

 _No, I will not accept this._  Yuuri knelt next to Victor and slammed his fist onto the ground sending dust soaring.

His body was still had a hint of lingering warmth. His expression peaceful, as if he was in the middle of a good dream about the future of the brave new world where demons walked free and slavery ceased to exist. A world Yuuri and Yura would rebuild side by side.

Yuuri's shuddered as crystalline drops won't stop pouring from his eyes, they fell on Victor's silvery lashes, his cheeks. Yuuri sank onto his hands and knees, "Victor!" Yuuri screamed his name, "wake up, you can't go...not like this...I don't want to be with you in the next lifetime, I want you in this one..." the wound from Yuuri's chest started to bleed again, warm wetness seeped through the new bandages that Victor wrapped around him one last time. Yuuri shuddered as all hope drained from him. Yuuri buried his face into Victor's chest, hoping more than anything that this was only a bad dream and he would wake up to Victor's smile and arms around him.

A memory flashed before his mind, a few months ago he rescued a fabric merchant who travelled with demon girl from the bandits. As a thank you gift, the merchant with timeless golden eyes insisted for him to keep a rusty ancient coin with a language engraved on both sides that was neither demons, angels nor mages. He also told Yuuri that 'when all hope is gone, toss the coin into the lake'. His aura seemed familiar, but Yuuri wasn't able to recall the details of their features because they were heavily disguised with enchantments.

Yuuri bent down on one knee and scooped Victor into his arms. Wings unfolded from his back.

* * *

At first nothing happened. The pristine surface of the lake in tiny swirls as the coin disappeared beneath its surface.

Then there was a low rumbling sound like thunder. A chasm appeared on the lake'a surface, parting the water to either side growing wider with every second, as if opening a portal to a whole new dimension. The space around the cleft distorted as a lone wooden boat with a hooded ferryman slowly approached the edge with something glistening in his outstretched hand with long and sharp nails.

Yuuri stepped closer, and he realized the unearthly ferryman had the coin in his hand.

With a swift motion, the cloaked figure gestured for him to step onto the boat.

 _When all hope is gone..._ Yuuri clung onto those words...he didn't care where this journey took him.  _Victor...without you...all hope is gone._

The ferryman didn't say anything for their entire journey. Darkness surrounded them as they disappeared into the other dimension. The silence was almost too loud to Yuuri's ears, there was no sound other than water against the oar. As the abyss enveloped them, the hooded figure lit a lantern, a sole orange flickering pinpoint of light defying the darkness.

Yuuri stepped out of the boat and softly thanked the cloaked figure, who nodded back without revealing his face and handed him the lantern for good measure.

There were stone steps ahead of him, leading towards the heart of the darkness.

Yuuri followed them into the mouth of a cave. He let go of all fear, the demon sword behind his back, its whispers now forever silenced because he conquered it, not with hatred, but with untainted love.

He didn't no how long he walked in the dark tunnel for, in this realm, time didn't seem to matter.

Soon, Yuuri found himself face to face with the Lord of the Underworld...his lips parted from the shock because the ruler of the dark world below was no one other than Victor's friend whose presence had always be shrouded by mystery: the most famous courtesan in the kingdom, the fierce warrior, the brilliant strategist, the master of the Sword of the Halfmoon...the unnamed hero amongst the demon kind, who was responsible for setting thousands of demons free before the end of the war.

Christopher Giacometti nodded at him from his throne, clad in rich violet robes lined with chrysanthemums, "ah Yuuri, you remembered my coin after all." Chris leaned forward and flashed a small sad smile.

Yuuri heard the rattling sound of chains with Chris' every movement. He glanced down and saw his legs chained together and found it peculiar that someone like him could be clad chains while seated on his own throne.  _Who could have done this?_  He shuddered and didn't want to know.

Chris let out a chuckle, "those can't be helped," he shrugged, "it's a shame," he shook his head, "and a long story, but Yuuri, what brought you here?"

"Chris," it took all of Yuuri's self restraint to prevent his voice from breaking," Victor's gone."

Chris's thick eyebrows furled as he leaned forwards on his dark throne formed by resemblance of waves of cooled lava transfixed by time, "I'm so sorry." His gazed down.

Yuuri's pulse accelerated, "is there any way -" his fingernail dug into his own palm.

With a grave face, their eyes met once again.

The flow of time seemed to slow down. 

Chris's nod opened the floodgates of hope, despite his countenance. Chris's frown deepened, "even though this is my realm, there are rules of this world even I must obey" Chris stood up rattling his chains.

"Anything," determination filled Yuuri voice, he took a few steps forwards, his footsteps the only sound surrounded by darkness.

"Despite the odds and the price?"

"Despite the odds and the price," Yuuri echoed.

"Very well," Chris stood up, "curse these chains, he muttered." He stepped down from his throne, "let's walk."

There was a hint of a smile in his voice.

 _The Underworld...sounds like a lonely place..._ Yuuri's eyes now adopted to the darkness, he scanned the inside of the grand hall with dark stone walls coated with characters he didn't recognize, the same runes as on the coin that brought him here. There was a long table next to Chris's throne lavishly decorated with wooden carvings and filled with jugs of wine and plates with grapes and pomegranates.

"I would have gone to fight Azriel in Victor's place, except, my punishment came at the most inconvenient time..." Chris sighed as he led Yuuri down the path behind his throne that opened into the mouth of an enormous stone serpent, the only sounds were of their foot steps reverberating through the darkness and the sound of Chris dragging his chains, "the Fates came for me..."

Yuuri tossed him an inquisitive glance.

"The three old hags that keep things that belong in this world here. You see, I swore an oath to not interfere with the fates of anyone above when I am permitted to visit, but of course...you know how that went..." Chris snapped his fingers and a violet flame hovered above his palm lighting the dark tunnel around them filled with runes on all sides.

"Chris, you have no idea how many lives were touched by your actions, how many demons you saved. Thank you." Yuuri's footsteps were even, "how long are you chained to this world?"

"Five hundred years, before they'd even speak with me about loosening the chains so I could even dream of going to the world above," Chris's eyes filled with flickers of longing. Time seemed irrelevant in this lonely realm shrouded by darkness. He shrugged, "It comes with the job description I suppose."

They exited the mouth of the cave and found themselves inside the hearts of a valley inside a forest cloaked by eternal night. The moon hung above them in the sharpest crescent. Fireflies flickered around them, some faster, making zigzags in the air, others travelled in a swarm, illuminating the texture of the tree-bark.

Then a thick band of green made of lights from fireflies drifted into the sky. Then Yuuri realized they were not fireflies, but souls. Trillions of them. The forest did not seem to have an end.

This must be the odds that Chris spoke of.

"Listen," Chris's soft expression turned serious again, "I wish there was any other way to take anything from this world to the one above, there must be a price to pay, you must leave apart of yourself behind," Chris avoided his gaze, sadness seeped through his golden irises, "otherwise the Fates would notice and it'd all be over."

Yuuri knew very well this was coming. "My wings, would that be enough?" Yuuri replied without hesitation as he reached for the handle of the Demon Sword secured from his back.

Chris nodded gravely, "but your powers would be gone too if you..."

Then a flash of blinding blade and the sounds of severing of flesh and bone followed by the sound of wings hitting the earth.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Blood trickled down from Yuuri's back onto the darkness of the ground. Yuuri winced a from the pain as white dots danced before his eyes.

"Yuuri, I'm sorry," Chris draped his hands onto Yuuri's shoulders steadying him.

Yuuri bit his lip and waited for the pain to pass and shook his head, "you've done more than enough," then his face lit up with a smile.

Chris understood in that moment the reason Victor always had  _that_  look on his eyes when he spoke of Yuuri. Even amidst war and destruction, Yuuri never gave up hope or become consumed by hatred.

Chris handed a small hourglass from his pocket filled with black and violet sand, "Yuuri, you cannot linger here for long, otherwise your soul will unravel and you would never be reborn again," he placed the hourglass in Yuuri's palms, "Before this runs out, find him and bring him back..."

Yuuri nodded, as he pressed his lips together firmly, "I don't know how to thank you."

Chris shook his head, "I want him to be happy too..."  _If they were meant to be, Yuuri, you would be able to find him again,_  he added in silence.

Yuuri walked into the forest.

* * *

Chris waited for Yuuri at the forest edge.

He pulled his violet robes closer towards himself and noticed a stray thread.  _Mila would pull that off for me._ Mila was a famous dancer before she was caught by the slave traders, she always made sure her costumes were perfect. He wish he could have seen her fire dance, where she was able to conjure flames with her demon powers.

He regretted not being able to tell her his true identity. Instead he said  _'If I cared for you any less, I would have told you everything."_  He missed her warmth, the way she had always protected him fiercely, refusing to leave his side. He regretted these words the most:  _'when the war is over, I want you to return to the demon kind, find someone you loves, someone to grow old together with'._ He could never forget the pain in her eyes after he finished that sentence.

It was all too late. She would age, and he would stay the same. He wouldn't have chosen to live forever if he had the choice to begin with. He knew given who he was, given his lifespan, he couldn't hold onto things, people. To him, everything was temporary, like footsteps in the sandy coast.

She was the first person he wanted to hold onto.

 _I wish...I could have told her the truth,_  Chris bit his lip as he lifted his head, and watched Yuuri's back disappear deeper into the forest.

Then familiar footsteps behind him approached, Chris's jaw parted as he turned slowly.

Her hair shone brilliant red, illuminated by the thin crescent of moon, her white robes flying behind her as she trotted with the grace of a dancer.

"Mila...what..." before he finished his sentence, she threw herself into his arms.

He ran his fingers through her hair.

"Chris," he heard her smile through her voice, "we are now the same, and I'm not going anywhere." He could feel the vibrations of her fluttering heart pressed against him.

"How...?" He was at loss for words, he discarded the calm mask that he had always worn. He cupped her cheeks with his hands, desperate to see if she was real. She brought colour to this stale and desolate world, she was vibrant and alive.

"Ever since you saved my life from the slave traders, my life is yours, Chris," her bellflower eyes glistened, "I told the Fates I am going with you."

"Those three hags agreed?" Chris tucked a strand of bright red hair behind her pointed ear. He knew the Fates were cruel, they had the powers to execute him if they wanted, as easy as squishing a bug. They kept order between worlds, and made sure that spirits that belonged in this world stayed in this world.

Mila nodded, "they laughed at me, and told me that was the stupidest thing they have ever heard...and that I had no idea what I was signing up for. But I know what I want," she pulled him close again, "...you." She whispered.

Chris leaned down and kissed her.

* * *

The nearest Firefly was curious towards the new visitor and it landed onto Yuuri's shoulder. More of the Fireflies gravitated towards him, their soft glow warm against his bare skin. He had forgotten how cold this night was. There were as many Fireflies as the stars above.

"Victor!" Yuuri called out his name, startling the nearest few Fireflies as they whirled away from him, "sorry," he apologized with his soft voice, "Victor!" He called out again. Each Firefly was similar to the next. He lifted his left hand wearing Victor's ring, closed his eyes and kissed it.

Yuuri stepped deeper down the forest path. An owl with sharp golden eyes watched him from her perch above. He had no idea where to head next, except that he had limited time. The only sound in this vacuum like emptiness was his feet and the rustling leaves and the occasional hooting from the owl that regarded him lazily.

A trail of kind Fireflies hovered before him, lighting his path. He thanked them, he had the strangest feeling, some of them he had met before, perhaps they were the demons that died during the war, fighting for his cause.  _Victor, where are you? Come back to me._  He couldn't deny the eerie beauty of this scenery. He held up the hourglass in his palm because the flow of time was different in this realm. The dark violet sand drops rained down relentlessly into a small pile.

Yuuri shut his eyes and searched the surrounding with his mind instead. He took himself back to the time when they were inside the flames fuelled by his Firestone, when they were joined without a beginning or end. His breaths deepened, his heart raced. He searched for that connection bound by ancient magic. Then in his mind's eye he remembered, Victor's presence, his smooth body pressed close to him, his scent, the texture of his hair, and the pressure of his lips. He conjured these things one by one.  _I don't want all of this to become just memories, I want you Victor, in flesh and blood._  His knuckles turned white from his grip onto the hourglass.

Then he felt a hint of familiarity coming from his left from twenty feet away.

He grasped onto the tiny tendrils of hope and turned. More Fireflies descended, lighting his way. After all, he was the one loved by demons, even in the Underworld they never left his side.

 _Victor,_  he reached out with his mind, and all of his love.  _I am right here, please...come back to me._

That familiar warmth grew closer and closer.

Ten feet.

The swarm of Fireflies before him parted ways so he could continue.

Five.

As if knowing that they needed a moment alone, they coalesced into a flowing green ribbon and spiraled towards the night sky.

Four.

Yuuri's heart accelerated, he picked up his pace.

Three.

He saw a single Firefly beckoning with unwavering light.

_It had to be you, Victor._

Two.

_I know it's you._

One.

Yuuri stopped before that single Firefly that glowed brighter than the rest and more beautiful than the stars above. One million emotions flooded within him all at once.

"Victor, let's go home," His vermillion eyes glistened, he ignored the pain on his chest and broke into a smile.

* * *

"You sure, this is the one?" Chris inquired, his golden eyes timeless. The chains around his ankles bounding him to this world rattled with every step, Mila walked along him with her arm looped around his.

"Without a doubt," the firefly flickered above Yuuri's palm, his eyes lit up as he nodded at the demon girl next to Chris.

Chris grinned back, there was a dimple on the left side of his cheek, the rim of his eyes seemed red, he pressed a finger onto the center of Yuuri's forehead, "very well, now I will bind him to you," his face was serious again, "Listen, after you leave this place, you cannot go back to your old lives...because the fates will be hunting for you. None of the living could know that you came here and bought Victor back."

"The Fates," Mila shuddered, "they can search for you through the eyes of those you know. And the capital and the Order are some of the first places where they'd look."

Yuuri nodded gravely, he knew this meant living the rest of their lives in exile, and that he would never be able to see Mari, Yuuko, and Phichit again. "I understand."  _Nobody can know that we are alive._  A sharp piercing pain coursed through him. But he was aware, this was the ultimate price he had to pay for coming to this world, but despite everything, he said, "Chris, thank you..."

The Lord of the Underworld shook his head, "Victor was like family to me. Knowing him and the fascinating world above was more than enough for me." Chris raised one hand, his golden eyes gleamed with desire for the world above that he loved.

Yuuri closed his eyes. Before his eyes he caught glimpses of the world through Victor's eyes. Including the image of when they first met, where he saw the fifteen year old version of himself putting his hand into the fire. Warmth enveloped his entire body... _he loved me since the very beginning._..he caught a glimpse of himself on tiptoes as he gathered all of his courage and kissed Victor for the very first time, then he turned around and bolted into the forest afterwards. He watched himself naked and tangled in Victor's long silver locks on their first night. He realized those were the moments Victor's soul choose to hold onto. Warm drops spilled out of his eyes, he didn't bother wiping them.

_Victor, let's go home._

Chris grinned one last time as Yuuri, with the Firefly that was Victor's soul held close to his heart, Yuuri walked towards the boundary between the worlds, where a crisp sharp line of light divided the realm of living and dead.

Yuuri turned as he heard footsteps running through the grass approaching, "Mila."

"Yuuri, I know this will sound selfish of me," she paused to catch her breath, "please don't get caught by the Fates. Because I have seen their powers, they will punish Chris for sending Victor back."

"You have my word," Yuuri pressed his lips together.

Mila smiled, "I believe in you."

Yuuri watched her back disappear.

As he approached the edge of the forest between the darkness and the light, the Firefly in his hand suddenly flew towards the ground.

His lips parted, he let in a sharp inhale, because standing before him, naked and translucent was Victor's soul.

Yuuri clasped his hand towards his lips, unable to speak, as tears poured out of his eyes, and rolled off the point of his chin onto the blades of grass at their feet.

Victor lips curled towards the sky, he touched the place where Yuuri's trail of tears won't seem to stop.

The place he touched, in his translucent form, was warm and familiar. It felt like home.

Even though Yuuri knew that if he tried to reach out his hand would go straight through him, he traced Victor's face with his finger, his lips curled up as Victor's fingers interlaced around his, "let's go home."

Together they stepped into the light.

* * *

Yuuri woke up to a familiar scent and warmth along his back, his head rested on something firm. The wound from where his wings once were throbbed distracting him from the place where Azriel almost pierced through his heart, he didn't know how much blood he had left.

A pair of blue-green eyes flickered from his vision little by little crystallized. Then he realized he was waking up in Victor's arms.

"Victor," his lips chapped, his throat dry, he couldn't recognize his own voice.  _Is this real?_  Hot blood pulsates in his ears.

"Shh, this is real, have some water," Victor stroked the side of his face as he answered to Yuuri's thoughts.

Yuuri felt the smoothness and every line on Victor's palm, and the calluses from Victor's years of training with the sword. Victor didn't have gloves on this time.

It wasn't raining.

Their skin didn't burn.

Victor tilted a flask up and held it to his lips.

That water was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted. Yuuri felt life slowly returning to him.

He raised his left hand where Victor's ring gleamed in the rays of the dawn of a brand new world reborn from the ashes. Yuuri reached up and caressed Victor's face. Victor took his hand and kissed every inch of it.

Even though they couldn't go back to the people they loved, even though they would live the rest of their lives in exile, hiding from the Fates, they could finally be together...and ordinary.

They wanted nothing more.

Yuuri looked up and smiled.

* * *

Author's Notes:

So I wanted to write this chapter for so long...it was a real treat! Chris is my favorite character to write after Yuuri in this story.

I did draw that picture...this is my first time playing with watercolour and I rarely ever draw anime, so please go easy on me.

The scene where Chris gave Yuuri the coin is actually the last scene in Chapter 6: When all hope is gone. Chris was curious about Yuuri so he disguised himself as a fabric merchant and staged the scene as if he and Mila were being attacked near Yuuri and of course, Yuuri came for their aid.

Epilogue to follow.

xoxo

Antares 

<https://antarespromise.tumblr.com/>


	17. Epilogue

The city burnt for fourteen days, Azriel's last act was destroying the city from its core.

Rochelle made it to the dungeons just in time to free the young mages Azriel threatened to burn alive if Victor did not turn over his body.

Afterwards, Yura and Mari turned over every rock from the rubbles looking for Yuuri and Victor, they were never found. Yura refuses to believe they were no longer in this world.

The gardens where Azriel created marble statues in the likeness of Victor's mother slowly became lined with tombstones of different shapes and sizes of those sacrificed by the war. One of them had two names on it:  _Yuuri Katsuki & Victor Nikiforov._

* * *

One year since the anniversary of Victor and Yuuri disappeared, Yura turned seventeen.

On a day where thick clouds blanketed the sky, he ordered his guards to stay back to give him space.

He kneeled next to the white stone with two names engraved next to each other and hot drops poured out of his eyes and splattered onto the pale marble. His shoulder trembled as he buried his face onto the stone, "Victor...there...is peace, it wasn't easy, but parts of the world you've wanted is becoming a reality..." there were already yellow roses and white azalea resting by the stone. Mari and Rochelle must have been here already.

Then a raven landed on his shoulder.

"Beka..." Yura stroked the bird with pitch black feathers with affection.

With a snapping sound, Otabek stood next to him, bringing with him the gift of silence. Yura had grown taller than him now, his chest broadened, his golden mane flowing past his shoulders.

"Something got into my eyes," Yura finished lamely.  _Victor, Yuuri, I still don't believe you are gone...please, just give me a sign that you are somewhere out there, safe and sound._

Then a bat demon fluttered towards him and laid a single indigo feather at his feet. Yura had never seen birds with plumage of that colour before.

 _Strange...bat demons do not usually live in this part plus this is broad daylight..._ Yura noted as he stood up. Mari, Phichit and Rochelle also had strange creatures deliver small gifts every month.

Otabek wrapped protective arms around Yura's from behind while raindrops coalesced into thick curtains around them staining the marble stone.

They didn't care if they were soaked.

Otabek didn't say anything, but his presence was all that Yura needed as he buried his face into Otabek's chest, his shoulders shuddered. Otabek knew that being the new King, Yura had to learn to restrain his emotions, to put on the unfazed mask and pretend to be strong. Only before him, Yura allowed himself to crumble. He ran his fingers through Yura's wet golden locks and kissed the top of his head.

He didn't believe Victor and Yuuri were gone either.

After all, Yuuri was untouchable by fire.

* * *

Rochelle Nikiforov packed away her black dress, one year of mourning flew by. Like Yura, she didn't believe that Yuuri and Victor truly left this world. She became the head of the Nikiforov family and carried on to teach the young mages she rescued from the fire.

She heard a knock on her window and the sound of wingbeats and her face lit up.

She pulled open the balcony doors to let Michele in.

Since the end of the war, Michele stayed by Yuri's side and became his messenger.

"Rochelle," Michele broke into a wide smile.

"What brought you here today?" Rochelle had gotten used to his visits. She laughed a little to herself as she thought of the letter her best friend Sara wrote to her from the Northern Peaks in the realm of the angels:  _he is so much less annoying now, whatever effect you have on him, I approve._

"I'd like to challenge you to a duel," Michele took two steps closer, he ruffled the feathers of his wings.

Rochelle smirked and nodded, "that's something I could never refuse." She picked up her sword. Victor used to spar with her, and there would not be a clear winner. Victor had always called it a tie when he noticed she was beginning to show signs of fatigue. He was the perfect gentleman. She once swore she would only marry someone who could defeat her in a sword fight.

Rochelle and Michele faced each other in the clearing outside of the castle walls, this was the first day she could wear something other than black. The crimson robes of the Nikiforov Mages fit her lithe form perfectly. She loved sparring, especially in the time of peace. She relished in the adrenaline sharpening her senses, the wind against her skin, and the sounds of clashing swords.

Five minutes into their duel, Rochelle feigned a move, then knocked the sword out of Michele's hand.

"Well, this is embarrassing," Michele scratched his head and laughed, "You live up to your reputation."

Rochelle pressed her lips together and smiled, "to last five minutes against me, your skills aren't bad...besides, you have those wings on your back and you must not be used to gravity."

"Lady Rochelle," Michele sheathed his sword, "I can assure you this isn't the last time."

"Be my guest," She had to admit, she hasn't had this much fun in a long time.

* * *

Two years since the end of the war.

Yura turned eighteen.

He walked amongst the gravestones, on a sunny day in October was beautiful, without a single cloud in the sky.

He had grown used to the new King of this ever evolving world. There were already a bundle of yellow roses resting on the tombstone. Rochelle must have just left, Yura thought. His eyes stung. Again, Otabek pretended not to notice. 

"Here, if it makes you feel better...take this," Otabek begun to pass a black rock towards him with a calm casual tone like his normal unfazed self.

"What is it?" As those words left his lips, Yura's heart almost stopped, because Otabek was thrusting his Firestone into Yura's hand. Tears pooled into his forest green eyes, spilled over his golden lashes and disappeared on the surface of the most precious rock to him in the world.

Yura closed his hand around it, brought it to his lips.

Otabek was taken aback by his former master's reaction, "I didn't mean to make you -" he wasn't anticipating this response.

The Yura grabbed him by the collar and kissed him hard. Their lips and teeth pressed together, Yura's golden hair wild. He clung to Otabek with desperation that this was the last place where he could appear vulnerable. As usual, he was glad asked his guards for space.

Otabek held him for a long time, hiding his face. He knew that Yura wouldn't have liked to be seen like this.

"Yuuri, Victor," Yura sank onto one knee, he smiled through his tears, "look," he unravelled his fingers and the pitch black Firestone glistened reflecting the sun into a single pinpoint of light so bright that Yura squinted his forest green eyes, "be happy for me, alright?"

Otabek's hand never left his shoulder.

* * *

Rochelle just returned from a meeting with Mari Katsuki, the leader of the demons. They became good friends over time. She was surprised how much Mari changed over the past two years. She looked more and more like a Queen each time Rochelle visited.

Rochelle still had that warm feeling inside as she reminisced riding her horse through the busy marketplace of the demon village, when Phichit in his raven form sat on her shoulders as her tour guide. He also happened to whispered every bit of filthy gossip under the sun in her ears completed with his commentaries. She shook her head and laughed.

Then she turned as she heard the familiar knocking on her window. She grinned and reached for her sword.

This time Michele lasted about fifteen minutes before Rochelle held the tip of her sword to his throat.

* * *

The third year, Yura was determined not to shed tears this time. Maeve turned three, and she and Otabek were inseparable. She insisted on wearing her hair in a braid at the back in the same style as Yura's, which Otabek happily complied. He braided Yura's hair every morning.

To Otabek, braiding was easy because he was proficient in making ropes during his training as a warrior.

Yura brought an armful of tiger lilies and handed one to Maeve as they visited Celestino and Minako's graves.

Maeve gently lowered the orange lilies using her powers to make them levitate. Rochelle Nikiforov said she had no doubt that Maeve would be a talented mage since her powers manifested at such an early age. She had mage and demon blood flowing inside her, and Celestino's eyes and Minako's laughter. Yura had always told her that her parents were heroes. He sighed and glanced into the cloudless azure sky, heroes weren't happy and they died young.  _Victor...Yuuri...wherever you are, I hope you are happy, I hope you haven't forgotten._

* * *

It's been an hour, and there was still no clear winner from their duel.

Rochelle sidestepped to the left as she blocked another one of Michele's strikes. She had to admit, she was impressed. He used to last only five minutes before the tip of her sword was at his throat. His stamina improved too.  _General Plisetsky taught him well,_  his strike narrowly missed her. Yura's grandfather also taught Victor how to fight.

Michele struck again from the right, which she easily blocked, a bead of glistening sweat trickled down her cheek.

Her eyes squinted from the sun reflected from his blade and from concentration, she dodged one more attack, "nice try," she smirked. He charged at her, and was not slowing down with the same move.

 _Amateur mistake,_  Rochelle deflected his advances and smirked, "Crispino...maybe another five years..."

"We'll see about that," he was not backing down. With planned precision, he reflected the sunlight into her eyes making her blink more often. Then he knocked the sword out of her hand.

Rochelle threw her head back and laughed as he saw Michele collapse onto the ground, out of breath.

Michele joined her as he wiped the glistening beads of sweat from his forehead. Then he turned towards her, his expression serious again, "Rochelle...do you know why I kept on challenging you?"

She sheathed her precious sword and paused. Her heart raced as if it was going to leap out of her chest. Amidst her busy schedule as the head of Nikiforov household and her duties to teach the young mages, she couldn't believe she had been oblivious for so long. She was at loss for words. Rochelle Aurelia, the warrior princess, who defeated every suitor who challenged her for her hand...this was her reputation before she married Victor with hopes to end the war.

"Rochelle, it didn't take me long to realize..." Michele stepped closer, his eyes violet eyes transfixed upon her. "I only have eyes for you."

"But what about the Skies? And...our lifespans are different," she couldn't tear her gaze from his.

A wave of wind sent several feathers flying, "I would still choose you," Michele took one step closer and stretched out a hand.

She realized the missing pieces of her life was right here in from of her. She once told her father that she would only be with someone who could win against her in a sword fight. Michele was the only one, apart from Victor who knocked the sword out of her hand. She remembered the first time Michele challenged her and how easy it was for her to defeat him. But Michele had been practicing, and the reason he kept on challenging her all along was really fighting for her hand. She promised herself that she wanted to be with someone who only had the eyes for her, and Michele spoke those very words.

With a small smile, Rochelle took took his hand. Warmth spread through their connection to her entire body. She could not say that she had fallen for him yet, but she was willing to give him a chance.

Michele beamed back and with gentleness squeezed her hand through their interlaced fingers. A few more feathers drifted to the ground.

Rochelle knew...every Angel had a choice, they could stop aging at will and live in the realm beyond the Northern Peaks, or they could give up their wings and their immortality,  _he wouldn't..._

She gasped as she watched Michele's wing disintegrate, shower her with thousands of feathers. They brushed softly past her cheeks, her hair, a few stray red strands from her high ponytail flew upwards with those feathers in the wind.

From his arms, she smiled.

* * *

Four years have gone since the war ended.

Yura wondered if the little demons that visited him bearing gifts was a sign that Yuuri and Victor were out there somewhere. That's what he choose to believe anyways. He remembered the way when Victor spoke about how he and Yuuri had first met, Yuuri was the boy loved by demons. The lesser demons would follow him everywhere, the mountain goblins came bearing jewels, they would rescue him each time the villagers accused him of a crime he never committed.

The small blue demon bird that could never be seen around this part of the Kingdom dropped a shell into his hands and soared into the sky vanishing without a trace.

Yura clutched it tight, running his fingers across its smooth surface.  _Victor...Yuuri...is this really you?_  If it was him five years ago, he would never forgive them for disappearing without a word. But he changed. He learnt to see the world through others' eyes.

"Victor," he kneeled beside the gravestone of the person that was the closest thing to a brother to him, and sat on his own heels, "tomorrow is our wedding day, Mage style," he sighed, "with flowers and other tackiness...I am looking forward to getting it over with, to be perfectly honest...but we are announcing Maeve as our daughter. I think Beka is more excited about that than our ceremony, which makes perfect sense knowing him..." Wind sent his stray golden locks flying, Yura blushed, "We are exchanging the vows in the demon's language, Beka was still scolding me for screwing it up...I don't know, I was never that great at picking up languages unlike you. You'd laugh at if you were there...Victor, I forgive you, for being alive and not visiting me, or telling me that you are alive. You are like a brother to me...and I miss you so fucking much. But I know you have your reasons. If you could come back, I know you would. You wouldn't be that selfish to leave me to be the leader amongst all of that chaos. All I want for you is to be happy, I hope Yuuri is happy too, I guess..." he added that as an afterthought. "See how far I have gotten?" He made a face that reminded him of his sixteen year old self before he stood up.

He didn't shed tears this time, Victor would not have like him to.

He smiled for Victor instead.

* * *

"Finally," Yura stretched after the long day of their ceremony. Yura ripped off his crimson cape studded with jewels and embroidery that seemed to weigh a ton.

"I can finally breathe without that suit," Otabek was already half naked waiting for him in bed.

They glanced at each other and laughed until Yura had tears in his eyes, "remember the way my dad bawled his eyes out today?"

Beka nodded, "I'm glad that you two get along."

Yura made a face as he kicked his boots off. He finally acknowledged Loki as his father. Loki loved the freedom, ocean and his ships, he was named Warden of the South (no longer a pirate).

Yura propped himself on the edge of the bed waiting expectantly for Otabek to undo the laces on his back and on his sleeves. Otabek did so without words. The days of him being Yura's slave seemed eons ago. Otabek peeled back intricate layers of crimson studded by black jewels from his body.

At last Yura felt free after ripping of his plain white shirt he wore underneath with frills on the sleeves, "phew..." he sighed with pleasure of being released from formal attire, he caught Otabek's dark eye transfixed upon him, "what?"

"I can't stare?" Otabek replied with a wry smile. Before Yura begun to speak, Otabek held a finger to his lip, "Shh...You are beautiful, stay still for a second..." he stroked the side of Yura's face, "even when we first met I thought you were...until you opened your mouth," he chuckled.

"Fuck you," Yura laughed as he shoved Otabek onto the bed and leaned down until the tips of their nose almost touched. As a King, he had to learn self restraint, including not being foul mouthed in public. Behind closed doors though, he was as foul as ever. Some things don't change.

Otabek ran his hands along Yura's bare skin along his back.

"Who makes love on their wedding night?" Yura yawned and put all of his dead weight on top of Otabek.

"Nobody, because the ceremony according to  _your_  traditions is so damn long and exhausting," Otabek pulled Yura's waist closer and begun to unravel the ornaments in his hair. He unclasped the tiny golden chain that suspended a single emerald on top of Yura's forehead and set it onto the dresser next to the bed. Next, with gentle hands, he lifted the intricate golden laurel crown from Yura's hair — the same color as the stars. At last, he pulled the golden ribbon holding together Yura's braid, the rest of his locks hung loose up to his shoulders.

"Right?" Yura ruffled his hair and snuggled closer, stealing a kiss, "maybe Victor and Yuuri would...because they are into that kind of thing." He rolled his eyes.

"I was looking forward to going to bed before it even begun," Otabek laughed as he kissed him back.

"Beka, will you sing to me?" Yura ran his hands over the sculpted lines over Otabek's chest, "that lullaby you always sang to Maeve, the one that demons got executed for singing out loud..."

Otabek pressed Yura's head against his chest and begun to sing softly next to his ear while stroking his golden locks. It didn't take a minstrel for to make demon song beautiful.

Yura made a little noise with pleasure as he listened, his breaths even and deep. To the rest of the world he was a King, but to Otabek, he was just Yura, no more, no less.

Otabek's song finished.

"Already?" Yura protested, "again." He pouted.

Otabek grinned, knowing the King would only make faces that looked like that before him alone, "fine." He pressed his forehead against Yura's and got lost onto his emerald eyes while he sang the once forbidden lullaby in the ancient language of the demon kind.

They drifted to sleep in each other's arms.

* * *

"You'll take this to Rochelle for me?" Yuuri handed a round white shell with a flower shaped pattern on top, the curious tiny demon chirped with delight and took it into its beak. He asked his demons to send different objects to those he cared about from the part of the world he and Victor wandered to.

Victor loaded the last sack of supplies onto their ship, "so this is the last one."

Yuuri nodded and pushed the ship with white sail into the water, his feet sank into soft wet sand as he wiped a few beads of sweat from his forehead.

"I have never left this Kingdom, this will be a first," Victor pulled the thick ropes of the ship until its white sail caught the wind.

"Me neither," Yuuri leapt onto the ship's hull. He shrugged and smiled.

They sailed into the night and the wind slowed down. Bioluminescent water demons greeted them from beneath the dark surface leaving glowing trails as they swam. Yuuri was still loved by demons despite the fact he left his powers and the demon sword behind in the Underworld.

Sitting next to each other on the deck, they watched meteors gliding across the sky. Victor could never stop staring at the twilight reflected from Yuuri's vermillion eyes.

Victor cradled Yuuri's head against his chest as if he was the most precious thing in the universe.

Yuuri's smile shone more brightly that the millions of stars above, he suddenly stood up, pulling Victor up with him. The night wind sent a few strands of Victor's long hair, held by a blue ribbon flying.

They didn't need words anymore. Victor learned that every demon knew how to dance, it was a part of their childhood along with singing their songs.  He intertwined the fingers of one hand within Yuuri's and his other landed with ease at Yuuri's waist. Yuuri taught him their dance, the same ones the demon's ancestors masqueraded to since the dawn of the world. The ocean was kind today, the image of the moon barely scattered by its gentle waves.

Yuuri led him in their dance, taking up the entire deck of the ship, their steps and heartbeats in sync.

Both a little out of breath, they rocked back and forth with their foreheads pressed together. Yuuri tilted Victor's chin up and pressed his lips against his.

Their skin didn't burn.

Suddenly Yuuri laughed.

"What's so funny?" Victor unravelled Yuuri's top button.

"Even now, we...still..." Yuuri inhaled sharply as Victor nibbled on his ear interrupting his words, "...do this outside."

Victor laughed back, "old habits die hard." he resisted peeling Yuuri's dark robes back, "I know you like it slow." Instead he undid all of Yuuri's buttons revealing a sliver of his sculpted chest. His fingers caressed the scar near Yuuri's heart.

Yuuri kissed the tip of his nose, then the Cupid's bow on his lip. He then loosened the blue ribbon holding Victor's hair together. The thin fabric fluttered to the ground as Victor's hair spilled over his shoulder like a waterfall. Yuuri loved waking up tangled with Victor's locks against his bare skin. Yuuri led him to the ship's hull, where Victor stood with his back against the wood.

Yuuri kneeled for him. He then touched him through his clothes, unhurried because they had all of the time in the world. He heard Victor's breathing accelerating in response.

Then Victor joined him on his knees, "I...can't wait anymore," Victor pressed Yuuri against him and begun to trace the outline of Yuuri's neck with his lips as he peeled Yuuri's dark tunic back with one hand, the dark fabric slid to the ground, "I'm going crazy if you continue at that rate." He felt Yuuri's body respond against his thigh.

Silvery locks slipped through Yuuri's fingers as he whispered in between their kisses, "Fine, for today, I'll make an exception," He teased Victor.

Under the millions of stars on the cloudless night sky, they closed the distance between them. Their souls now tethered together thanks to the magic of their old friend who happened to be the ruler of the Underworld. When time came to meet Chris again, they would greet him hand in hand.

Together they would turn into Fireflies in the Forest between Darkness and Light.

Together they would be reborn.

They would find each other again and again...amidst the melody of Demon Song — the lullaby no longer forbidden — in all of their lifetimes.

* * *

"What word should we use for Victor and Yuuri?" Chris turned to Mila, who curled up next to him on his throne. Michele wasn't the only one who gave up an entire world for someone he loved. Time passed differently in the world below. One second could be a year or a lifetime to the world above.

"Soulmates," one of the nearby spirits spoke as he fluttered as a Firefly.

"Soulmates, it has a nice ring to it," Chris flashed one of his stunning smiles as he stroked Mila's brilliant hair as she settled into his lap and laced her arm around his neck, "right, my Queen?"

* * *

**Author's Note:**

About the ending:

If Yuuri was still the demon prince and Victor the leader of the Nikiforov Mages they would help Yura build the brand new world without hesitation. Yuuri said earlier on in the story that he dreamt of being free and ordinary, if he had the choice he would have not have chosen to be born as a prince...Despite living in exile from everything they had known and loved, they are free...and that freedom is their happy ending.

Rochelle was inspired by all the amazing side characters that deserved to find happiness. I love writing strong female characters, when Michele knocked the sword out of her hand there could be two scenarios, one: he defeated her, the other, she let him win because she realized that was actually his confession without words. I left it ambiguous on purpose, so you can choose the one you like. I also wanted to see Michele grow up and be less creepy (that was a self indulgent moment there). 

Thank you those of you who stayed with me till the end, especially those who left me kind words after every chapter. They were truly like gifts. I do encourage you to leave a comment for the next author of a story you enjoy (because we love it...after hours of planning, writing and editing...it's nice to know somewhere in the world we made someone smile...or smile through their tears in my case haha.)

This story was with me for the past 6 months . It feels strange parting with something I thought about every day while standing in line for coffee, waiting for my patients to be ready, scrambling for paper but ended up writing a scene on a napkin because I felt inspired...

I do feel I grew as a writer along the way & I cannot put in words how much I appreciate YoI for bringing me back to writing again.

 

With Love,

-Antares

P.S. Send me a happy prompt here or on Tumblr, and if I feel inspired I will write a short story as a gift to you. Sorry if I made you cry...hopefully in a good way. 

<https://antarespromise.tumblr.com/>

My medical AU, where Yuuri and Victor are doctors: [There Is](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11398311/chapters/25528047)

* * *

 

The next story:

_**You, From the Stars** [Victor/Yuuri, Space AU]_

_"Before we met, I knew," the pressure of Victor lips soft against his wrist, "...I am yours."_

_This, is an unconventional love story that transcended time and space._

 


	18. Extras: Illustrations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Artwork Credit (posted with permission, because she is amazing!):[@trebolqueen](https://tmblr.co/mLrUjxd3m1GTrHbDwLA_OTg) / [Facebook](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2FTr%25C3%25A9bol_queen-1504320742967560%2F&t=MGY1NGE5MDc3M2EzMmY5MDc5ODgyODg1ZWNmY2M4YTQ0YWZmNTI5ZCxPbldUNnZTMA%3D%3D&b=t%3AAAVw-FY46-Cftz9Ako92WQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fantarespromise.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F173645707251%2Fantarespromise-the-boy-loved-by-demons-for-my&m=1) **

**Author's Note:**

A wonderful artist sent me these, and gave me permission to make them a part of my story. I am so honoured!

We speak different languages, and part of our communication was via google translate.

Please send her your love and support, she does commissions! 

It's been a year since I posted the first chapter of this story. I hope you found that my writing have improved. 

Here is a companion piece that I wrote for this story one year later [Stargazer](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14404002)

Here is my collaboration with another talented artist of a fairy tale readaptation [Briar Rose](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14495745)

Here is this angst writer, creating non-angst, as an apology to anyone who cried reading [this story](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11398311/chapters/25528047). [Unconventionally Yours](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13385862/chapters/30661110)

Here is in my personal, opinion my best work. [Only the Stars Knew](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12875124/chapters/30245241) (Otayuri). 

To my lovely readers who stayed with me since day one, thank you!

Much love,

-[Antares](https://antarespromise.tumblr.com/)

P.S. I only write happy endings. 


End file.
